Eternally Yours
by truebie1989
Summary: In a world where vampires control the human race and states are divided into kingdoms, each King is destined to find their mate. Eric is reluctant King of Louisiana, and his time has come. What happens when Sookie is selected as his mate? Can she learn to love him as well as keep up with his demands and what is expected of her? AU, OOC, violence, sex.
1. The King of Louisiana

_**Hey there,**_

_**I own nothing to do with SVM or True Blood. I am just a very big fan of both. This is my first time writing a fan fiction and I've probably done it terribly. **_

_**I wanted to try write a different story, where this is an alternate setting. Sookie is still telepathic, and Eric is still a thousand years old. However, he is King of Louisiana (Similar to Russell Edgington's character). There is no synthetic blood in this world, and human's are the only source for vampire sustenance.**_

_**This world will be dark and brutal. Vampires see themselves as the superior race to humans, and often they don't mind punishing them, or seeing them as little more than a live source of blood. Eric will be cold and mean at first and he will do some terrible things that might make you hate him, but ultimately he is just playing along with what is expected of him in the world. **_

_**I got my idea after seeing Willa and Eric and how they interacted with each other: I wondered what if it was a different setting, where Sookie is required to be turned into an immortal after a certain length of time at King Eric's doing, and Eric, being very informative and showing gentleness, yet with that dash of danger and off-putting element he has as a vampire, who longs for Sookie's highly appealing blood as an unknown fairy and as his mate. Eric will seem disturbing in his behaviour at first and it disconcerts Sookie, as someone who hasn't been around a vampire before. Ultimately, below his exterior, he will have a goodness in him and Sookie will help him learn in the way that he is helping her learn about vampire hierarchy and expectations.**_

_**I'm not sure if I have done a very good job with explaining or not, but hopefully it isn't too terrible. I'm sorry if it is!**_

_**P.S: Merry Christmas and happy holidays from a fellow fan!**_

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_**Eternally Yours**_

Ever since vampires came out of the coffin five years ago, they went to extreme and sometimes mighty brutal and gruesome lengths to show their dominance over the human race.

In the end, they won and we had to live by their rules.

We are the lesser kind. They are basically to be considered our "masters". We have to live by their code, their conduct. We must do whatever they say, whatever they want. They are our puppeteers, and we are their puppets. If we don't obey them and fulfil their every wishes, they will punish us; Torture us, in any way they find fitting.

A few brave souls have fought against them over time, only to be destroyed. The vampires used it as an example for us humans not to get the idea of being smart, by televising it live while they were being tortured and violated. It pretty much shoved a sock into anyone who wanted to get cocky.

In every state, there is one vampire male, who is the oldest and strongest that rules the state and its people. He is considered the Vampire King of that particular area. Annually, all human females in a particular area are to be herded together in a room for the King's entertainment, where he selects one unlucky- or lucky, depending on which way you view it- female to be his mate. After a certain time, as a prerequisite, he must give her the immortal kiss- in other words, change her into a vampire.

There are fifty Kings for the fifty states in the United States of America. The only ones I know of thanks to them being identified on live television, is Stan Davis, the King Vampire of Texas, and a vampire called Godric, who is King of Oklahoma. Most others- including our very own King of Louisiana- are unknown.

For his own safety and to prevent himself being targeted from human rebels, the Vampire King's identity has been kept private, like most others around the states. All we know is that, any year now, the announcement could be made in my particular state of Louisiana that the King's time has come to find his mate and to eventually bestow his everlasting kiss on her.

I have heard plenty of rumours about the King of our state, but I can't be sure whether it is just hearsay or not. I have heard he is over a thousand-years-old. I have also heard that he has collected a few female slaves and when they displeased him, he did unholy things to them. I don't want to ever start thinking of that happening to me, being selected as a vampire king's wife, or slave, whatever.

My name is Sookie Stackhouse. I'm twenty-years-old. I also have a special little gift that makes me a little different from everybody else around me. My Grandmother, Adele Hale, who I live with, is adamant that we keep my telepathy gift a secret. Who knows what would happen to me, if any vampires were knowledgeable of it? Gran has always said it's my mind reading gift that makes me extra special. Also, she says it makes me more of a magnet to any vampires had they ever came to know of it, so usually I try to keep my quirk to myself.

I have heard a few rumours about vampires and their mates (thanks to my little gift). When a vampire knows you are their mate, you can bet your bottom dollar that they will make sure you know it yourself. I have heard about one story, where King Stan Davis of Texas found his mate. His reaction to how she was being mistreated was violent and sudden. He literally grabbed another offending vampire who had slapped her by the throat, said, "She is mine, stay away from her. Don't you dare mistreat her again, you jackass." And then he staked the vamp and made it clear on others that they better watch themselves or else.

I wasn't entirely sure whether it was a fabricated story, but it was an... interesting one, to say the least.

Vampire Kings were the oldest of all the other vampires, so you can imagine how incredibly strong they were, thanks to their age. When the King is against a common vampire, he can apparently take them down in less than half a second.

The way a vampire can tell when a human is their mate is by scenting them: A process where the scent of their human mate is intoxicating to them. This is what all the annual events are about: We are all herded into a room, where the King of our state scents out if their other-half is in the room.

It sings to them, pulls them to their mate like metal to a magnet. I have also heard that vampires can die if they are separated from their mate for extended periods of time, although I'm not sure whether this is just another fabrication. Their strength comes in handy when they need to assert their will when it comes to claiming their mate. It wouldn't be recommended saying no to a vampire who claims you are theirs. You'd be sorry.

But it hasn't happened for our state of Louisiana yet. There hasn't been an announcement that the King is ready to scent out his match. We can consider ourselves lucky for the time being; We can rest easy. Only, it isn't that way, not tonight when the six o'clock news comes on. Everybody grows tense and weary in my household, as the evening news comes on television.

The announcement is made; Females in the Louisiana parish aged between 18 and 25 must prep themselves in their best clothes and gather in the Bon Temps community hall at nine tonight. The Vampire King is on his way.

It is finally his turn to find his mate and bestow her the immortal kiss. It's illegal not to turn up to this thing. You could expect the entire town to be there.

Gran is frantic. She helps me get changed into one of my white, floral halter neck dresses and a pair of peep-toe heels. She helps straighten my hair and even lets me borrow her favourite earrings, which are gorgeous pearl-drop ones. My best friend since I was a little girl, Tara Thornton, comes around to join me. She looks lovely in a red dress that shows off her beautiful brown skin and brings out the dark colour of her eyes. Her hair is up in a braid her mother did for her. She looks just as scared as I do; Tara has never been particularly fond of vampires, and really, neither have I. But this is required of us. Gran sends us off with a good-luck kiss to our cheeks, and I grab Tara's hand and hold it tightly as we walk. The streets are claustrophobic and panicked, filled with girls near to our age and a bit older.

No one says anything, mainly out of fear of bringing attention to themselves.

A few men wave us all to hurry up like cattle sheep being herded into a field, and I realize they must be vampires. They must be the King's guards, or at least part of the process that goes along with this every year. I have noticed everything tends to get silent when I am near a vampire- which isn't very often. My telepathy gift doesn't extend to them, which makes being in their company all the more daunting and unpredictable. I can't tell what they are thinking and what they are planning to do ahead of time. I tighten my grip on Tara's hand as we reach the community hall, where a long line of young women has formed outside the entrance. Inside, there the Vampire King will be, seated on a temporary stage waiting to scent out his human as she enters the room.

They take it in groups: Eighteen girls go in for several minutes, and then they are sent back out. Then, just as quickly, another group of eighteen girls are herded in for the King to try again.

I feel Tara's hand shaking as I hold it in mine, but really, I'm not so sure whether it is actually her hand or just my own. It is so hard to tell, because I feel just as terrified as, no doubt, Tara does. We haven't ever seen the Vampire King before; We don't know what to expect.

Our time came, and one of the guards ushered us forward. I refused to let go of Tara's hand, as we clamoured our way inside the building. The entrance hall was narrow and it was a tight squeeze with eighteen girls marching inside, but no one made a single noise or word of protest. It would be risky, and it would only make us have to face the chance of painful punishment.

Once we all manage to get through the narrow hallway, it isn't as tight or claustrophobic. It looks as it always does, the hall, where everybody would go into for church on Sunday mornings. Only there is a temporary stage at the far end of the wall, where a cluster of vampires stand. No doubt, one of them is the Vampire King of Louisiana, only it is hard to see him past anybody's shoulders. I'm not the shortest girl in the world, but it is still an effort to see over heads and shoulders- even with my peep-toe heels on.

"Spread out, humans," a vampire with a lisp commands impatiently. "Let's keep this a singular line so that the King has a good chance to sniff you-all out!"

No one makes a sound. No one wants to die tonight. Heck, no.

Slowly we all shuffle into one long line, as directed. My hand refuses to let Tara's go, but she doesn't seem to mind it one bit. She's perfectly peachy with it. Nausea hits me as I bring my attention up to the stage: There has to be around eight vampires standing up there and, one of them, is the mighty powerful King. It is really hard to tell which one of them is him.

Three vampires sit in chairs; The one in the middle is scrutinizing us all carefully with the ghost of a smile on his lips. I have a hunch that he may very well be the King: There is just something about him. He has fearsome presence about him. He exudes masculinity and power. His blue eyes roam around all the girls brazenly, taking them in as they stand prepped-up in their best clothes for him. He scans me twice, much to my horror. All of us are so silent you could almost hear a pin drop in the hall. You can't even hear any of us breathing; We are all holding in our breaths, almost afraid to so much as breathe.

I can't deny that the man is gorgeous... if he even _is_ the King.

His chin is chiselled. The nose, angular. The eyes, stunning, though extremely scary. They feel as if they have ability to see right through your skin. They are an amazing light blue in colour, and his pupils are heavily dilated, overpowering the blue irises, which is very noticeable against his pale skin. His light blonde hair is combed back behind his ear lobes. He is wearing all black for the occasion: A long black leather trench coat, combined with black trousers that illustrate how long his legs are and black, shiny loafers. The collar of the trench coat is pushed up, shielding the muscles of his neck from view. Without warning, he stands and climbs down the stage towards the group of us young ladies. Just with the way he struts, he oozes a dominance and confidence that's catching. Despite his height, there isn't anything ungraceful about him at all.

My eyes wander down his body without my control, and all I see is strength and perfection everywhere I look, I might as well admit.

Just like that I can hear all the girl's thoughts. Some find him curiously handsome, as I do. They find him a real hunk, like a movie star or a poster boy. Others find him the most terrifying thing in the world and wish so badly that it isn't them who are going to be chosen as his mate.

I guess I am not the only one thinking that way.

"Good evening ladies. I thank you all for coming here this evening. One of you may very well be my mate, so let's get started immediately." His voice is deep, husky. I almost let loose a nervous laugh; Even his voice is too perfect, in a scary way.

The King walks forward, eyeing us all closely. He walks down the line slowly, inspecting us all from head to toe. I feel my body tremble as he pauses at me, scrutinizing me in my dress with a mirthful gleam in his eyes. Then, he gets down to business with scenting us. He closes his eyes. His head lifts slightly. He breathes in deeply, as if inhaling in perfume.

The nausea in me builds as I so desperately hope it isn't me. Tara is clinging to my hand so tightly it begins to ache.

"Yes," the King breathes in delight, and he inhales again, louder this time around. "My mate is here, in this very room. She is one of you. She smells... sweet. The sunlight lingers on her skin. Delicious." He shudders and licks his lips as he reopens his eyes.

His fangs are out, shining below his top lip.

_Huh_. So this means it can be any one of us girls. I just hope to death it isn't me. Or Tara. Not either one of us.

_Surely, it couldn't be me, though,_ I reason with myself, as the panic builds within me, suffocating me. _There is no way in hell it'll be me. I've got nothing to worry about. Neither does Tara._

He sniffs the air a few more times. Then he turns back to the men seated on the stage.

"This will take too long," he tells them, with an air of impatience. "I want the girls separated. I want one to come up at a time, and I will inhale their scent. She is here; that I have no doubts. Bring them forward one at a time."

No one dares to leave him waiting. First girl in line goes up reluctantly, then the next, and the next. Until there is eight of us left, including myself and Tara. There is a good chance it isn't me or Tara. I have to keep on telling myself that. He rejects each girl with a gruff "No, it isn't you," and off the female goes. Then there is one girl in front of me. He dismisses her, just as rudely. And then, before I know it, it is my turn.

Tara refuses to let go of my hand, so I step forward slightly while still holding hers.

He moves forward and closes the distance between us, being so tall I only just reach his shoulders. He leans down, sniffs at me like a stray dog in a freaky way.

Then he reaches out and picks up a strand of my hair between his fingertips gently and bends down to sniff it. He hasn't paid this much attention to the other females.

Oh, God. Jesus Christ. Holy Mother Mary.

He licks his lips. Those fangs.

As he studies me carefully, I chant it inside my head over and over that it's not me, it isn't me, it's not me.

"Ah, here she is," he announces proudly. "She is the one. It is her."

The other vampires rise from their chairs and climb down the stage towards me.

I distantly remember a time when I was younger; a feeling I got whenever my Uncle Bartlett would pop around for dinner. I would want to run and hide, whenever he did, because he would touch me inappropriately and think terrible things- things an older man shouldn't about a younger girl. This was very much the same feeling I had now. I wanted to run and hide, safe and away from the world. Only, I can't. It leaves me struggling to breathe. My lungs won't work, damn them.

"Let go," the vampire with the lisp says to Tara coldly, and much to my dismay, she has no choice but to loosen her grip on my hand. "Everyone, go. You are free. Shoo, humans!"

It happens oh so quickly. Everybody is gone, until it is just me and him. Me, and the Vampire King, and all his vampire men. I'm alone. No one can help me.

"My mate, what is your name, sweetheart?" The Vampire King asks me, his voice low.

"Sookie Stackhouse," I answer, as politely and as calmly as I can. Fortunately, my voice works with me, and it doesn't betray me. I don't sound as afraid as I feel.

"You are mine now, Sookie Stackhouse," he says, in an assertive tone. "I am Eric Northman, King of the area. You will leave with me now, and you will not try to refuse. It is imperative that you come with me. Do you understand?" His eyes gaze into mine intensely with affection. I can't look away, even if I try.

I swallow hard. "But where will I go with you?" I ask, in a small voice. "I already have a home here, in Bon Temps. I live with my Grandmother."

"You live here no longer. Your home is with me now."

"I'm not leaving my home!"

"You are, and you will." He turns to look at his vampire men, and says, distinctively amused, "My human is a cantankerous one, isn't she?"

They all share a laugh at that, all at my expense.

I don't lose my temper very often, but when I do, I make a good job of it. "I'm not leaving with you," I insist tartly. "This has to be some huge mistake!"

"Well, this is not a mistake. You will have to learn to get used to it."

"No, I don't have to get used to anything!"

All the vampire men share another hearty chuckle at that.

"What are your talents, sweetheart?" The Vampire King asks me curiously.

"Talents?"

"Yes." He licks his lips in a very hungry way. "Do you... sing, perhaps? You look as if you have a very lovely set of lungs on you."

"Well, obviously appearances are misleading," I retort. "I can't carry a tune whatsoever. I'll only make your ears bleed, trust me!"

More laughs at my expense_. I didn't know I was so funny?_

"There must be something you are well at?" he asks, and raising a hand, he places his cool palm against my cheek; All due to his touch, suddenly I feel something strange. It is a shock like pure electricity running through me. "How else will you be able to entertain me?"

"Nope, nothing at all." I shrug. "I'm not much for entertaining people. I've never been any good at it."

"You have some..." He pauses, unable to think of the right word for a moment. "Spunk!" he decides amusedly. "You have spunk. That, alone, is very entertaining. I have always enjoyed a woman who is not afraid to speak her mind. It is very charming of you. I look forward to seeing more of it tonight once we are alone with a little privacy to ourselves." He turns to his men again. "Guards, will you escort my human out?"

Before I can find my voice, a strong hand comes around my forearm, pulling me along. It's the lispy vampire. He's gotten all handy with me.

"See to it that my human does not get hurt in any sharp or form. If she does, expect the living shit to be beaten out of each one of you!"

Now I'm truly in danger of bawling, but I try to contain the waterworks in with all my might.

How much bad luck can I have?

**So... what did you think of this? I would love to hear your thoughts. Shall I continue or was this really bad?**


	2. Laying Down the Law

**Firstly, I own nothing to do with True Blood. I'm just a super huge fan.**

**I want to thank you all so much for your responses, as I really wasn't expecting that. You are all so kind, and it doesn't make me feel so nervous now about writing this. I am hoping you enjoy this one. Thank you for encouraging me to continue! **

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_**Chapter Two**_

Still completely stunned out of my wits, I let the lispy guard drag me along outside the church building. Everything seems to feel as if it's going in slow motion. It's almost as if I'm in some movie; a movie where this isn't really happening to me. But then, that feeling sort of goes down the drain when it registers that all these vampire guards are tagging along in front and behind you. Some guards have weapons to protect the King from any humans who want to start getting foolish, but outside, no one is silly enough to try go against them.

A crowd of girls stand, watching me as I get pulled along by the vampire who is gripping my forearm tightly. Some are real happy they haven't been chosen; They can continue to go on and live their safe little lives, while I can't. Other girls are unhappy: Not out of anything ridiculous like jealousy, but because they know how unfair this is on me. Tara is one of them, and I spot her standing there, watching me with a glum expression on her face. Her hands are clenched up into tight fists at her sides, and she's mostly worried about never getting the chance to spend time with her best friend again.

Truth is, I hate that most of all: The fact that I won't be able to go back to my regular, comfortable life. I don't know whether I'll see my Grandmother again. I don't know whether I'll get the chance to joke around with my oafish big brother Jason again. I don't even know whether I will get the opportunity to hang with Tara again, like old times.

My life is set to change in a big way, and it's unfair. But realistically, what can I do about all this? Next to nothing, that's what.

Catching Tara's eyes, I mouth: "Best friends forever." And it is the only thing I know in the world to be true.

But also, I realize my mistake a second later. It only incenses her and pushes Tara to breaking point. Ever since I have known Tara- since the very first time she stood up for me in kindergarten against two bullies- she has been the most mouthiest and strongest girl I know. She speaks her mind, and she also has a dirty mouth to boot. So, it's only natural that she reacts the way she does. Sometimes Tara often gets so fired-up she doesn't think straight about the consequences of her actions in advance before she goes ahead and does things. Before I know it, she is screaming hysterically and lunging at me through the crowd. Even a huge gang of guards that are vampires with rifles in their hands isn't enough to stop her.

"You undead, sick vampire motherfuckers," she screams. "Let her go! This is fucking bullshit! Let her go! Now! You've got the wrong girl!"

I don't need to hold her back, thank Jesus. A few intelligent girls in the crowd are smart enough to do that for me. But that's what the people in Bon Temps are good for: They stick together. They look after their own. Most of the time, anyway.

My throat tightens over how distressed Tara is. "Tara, stop," I beg her unevenly, and I feel like crying myself, because it's really upsetting me to see how sad she is. I don't want to cry, though. At least not in front of these vampires. I want to do it in privacy, not give them the satisfaction. "Please, just don't go getting yourself into trouble! It isn't worth it! I promise I'll be seeing you real soon!"

Even with people holding her back, she's still thrashing around like a wild young woman. It breaks my heart. But with all my might, I steel myself and push onwards, ignoring the aching of my arm from the lispy vampires crushing grasp. Ignoring all the ruckus from Tara, I keep my eyes forward to where the guards are leading me. My eyes feel wet, and I struggle to see through the blurriness of them. I faintly see a parked black limousine a few paces ahead of me. Another guard is waiting by it, with the door to the backseat wide open for me.

I guess this is where they are taking me. I'm to get into that limousine and ride off into some unknown house where the Vampire King lives, and spend the rest of my days there, until he grants me the immortal kiss and my human life is taken away from me forever.

_Speaking of the Vampire King..._

I bring my eyes around me, searching for him. I can't find him anywhere. I can't remember him leaving, though. Or maybe he went off, in his own private car to his house, where he will be waiting for me to arrive? I find myself thankful for the time I will have away from him, on the ride over. Hopefully, it'll give me a few moments to myself, to adjust to what has only just happened to me.

_Why me?_ I let myself wonder indulgently, as the guard continues to pull me along. But then I sort of realize it doesn't really matter. It has already only just happened, and there really isn't much I can do to reverse time and change anything. I have been chosen. The only thing left to do is trying to go along with it as quietly as I'm able to. I don't exactly much feel like dying anytime soon, and going against something as serious as this would only be a pretty quick way to make you meet your end.

Once I reach the limousine after what seems a lifetime, the vampire grasping me by the arm spins me around and I force myself to hold his gaze. He seems to examine me closely enough to count all the little hairs on my arms. I decide I don't like this vampire. He has black beady eyes and, frankly, I find him disgusting. Usually it takes me a long time to detest someone; I usually like to give somebody the benefit of the doubt before I make any judgments, but with him, it's a little hard to.

"In some ways, I can sure understand why you were chosen," he says, scrutinizing me with his dark eyes. "You smell different. You smell like a rare one." I think I liked him better when he was being quiet, honestly. "Either you got sweet virgin blood coursing through your veins, or you're not just any regular stupid human."

It's obvious he doesn't hold much faith in the human race. It only makes me find him all the more appalling.

"Why don't you get in the car already, you dumb bitch?" He says it in a quiet, gentle tone of voice. But that only makes him sound even more scary somehow.

"That's rich, coming from somebody like you," I spit under my breath maliciously, without thinking.

As I stated previously, I do tend to have a short temper on me, probably against better judgment. I just don't particularly like being belittled and insulted. So far, this lispy vampire has only managed to do both of those things.

Without warning and before I can comprehend the danger, this vampire seizes me by the arms painfully and pushes me into the backseat of the limousine. Since I am already having trouble staying upright in the ridiculous heels I'm wearing, I slip and topple over, falling back out of the limo on my ass to the ground harshly. _Goddamn it. Ouch_. My backside stings and I'm pretty sure I have managed to even scrape some skin off my knees and the back of my hands. I can't afford to get upset with it, so again, steeling myself and setting on a brave face, I push myself up and climb safely inside the confines of the back of the limo. Crying is just not an option for me at the moment. Besides, the pain isn't too bad. There's just some stinging here and there, but I'll survive. I can only feel immense relief when the door is being slammed on me and I don't have to face that unpleasant vampire again.

I sink comfortably into the leather seat of the limo and inspect my injuries. My thoughts are confirmed: I have indeed lost a fair amount of skin off the back of my hands, but I'm not bleeding. In all things considered, it's a good outcome. The car lurches forward and I try to distract myself by glancing out the window, hoping to work out my surroundings. The window is tinted, but I can still work out a fair bit of my surroundings. I notice we go past the homely sign that tells us we are in Bon Temps, which tells me we are heading out of my hometown. I'm not sure how I feel about that. If I could have, I would have wanted to stay in Bon Temps- the town I was born and raised in- for as long as I possibly could.

But apparently life has other plans for me...

If there is one thing I'm most certain of, it's that I'll be missing my hometown. I'll be missing the people in it- even the ones I didn't like all that much to begin with. I'll miss my family, and Tara definitely. I just don't know when I'll get the chance to see them again, and that worries me most of all.

I think of my Grandmother's beautiful face and how upset she will be once she finds out the news that I'm this Vampire Kings mate. I think of our home. My Grandmother took me and Jason in, ever since our parents died when we were younger. I can't remember much of my parents, but what I do remember of them, they are mostly hard memories. My parents used to argue a lot, over my telepathy gift. It frightened my Mama and Daddy most of all, to know that their child was different from the rest. But when I lived with Gran, she accepted me, telepathy and all. But she also wanted me to keep it secret, out of fear vampires and other people would try to take advantage of me. It has almost been a thing I have always done out of habit, in pretending I'm a mostly normal young woman. If there is one thing I know I'll be doing, it is that I'll be keeping my gift to myself.

Especially when it comes to this Vampire King, Eric Northman. I don't want him knowing anything about me at all. I was adamant on pretending, and I have learned to pretend seamlessly throughout the years. Pretending again in front of him should be as easy as apple pie.

I push my face real close up to the window as the car slows down. I'm sickened by what I see. There is a huge house, a mansion, almost. It has a big fortification gate around the house made of stone or rock like the great wall of China that keeps it closed off from any unwanted visitors. Escaping won't be easy. I don't think I have ever seen such a humongous house before. Then again, it _is_ the Kings abode. He should have the best, as is expected, isn't it?

I turn and look forward at the driver's part of the limo. The driver, I realize, is looking right at me through the mirror, because I meet his gaze's impassive reflection almost instantly. His eyes look familiar to me for some reason, although I'm not sure why exactly. They are a striking light brown, and I have a hunch I've seen them before, but I can't work out where from.

The gates are opened by a pair of armed guards, and then in the limousine slowly rolls. Up closer, it presents me a better look at the house. It's an old cobblestone building, with many windows. It even has a large yard that would put my Gran's to shame; Trimmed hedges line the driveway, and a few maple trees are planted here and there.

When the limo comes to a sudden stop, I take it as my cue to get out. Only, much to my surprise, the driver instructs me to wait for him to open the door for me personally himself. I just let him, since he seems pretty much insistent on doing so. He comes around, opens the door for me, and I slide out awkwardly onto my heels. I give the limo driver a fleeting curious look; I had thought I had recognized him somehow, only I was wrong. His eyes seemed familiar to me. It occurs to me it's only because they remind me of my brother's eyes.

The instance I turn around as the driver closes the door, I get the fright of my life to find the one and only Vampire King himself is standing waiting for me by the front steps of his fancy house. His hands are tucked deeply into the pockets of his trench coat and he is leaning with a shoulder against the doorsill of his house with remarkable and easy balance.

I'm still not sure what to make of him- I can't lie. I don't know whether it is expected of me to curtsey or not, but I notice him studying me with undistinguished appreciation.

Since I don't know what the heck I'm expected to do, I make up my mind in bending my knees slightly in what I hope is a convincing demonstration of respect. It really seems to do the trick, because with a smile, he climbs down the steps to meet me. He slips one hand out of the pocket of his coat, takes one of mine in his, and brings it to his lips, kissing it. His eyes stare deeply into mine as he does it and, unable to help it, I give out a little shiver, mainly because his fingers and the brief touch of his lips feels strangely cool against mine.

Plus, the hungry and intense look on his face isn't doing him any favours in making me feel comfortable.

"Please, come inside," he says, finally releasing my hand.

I don't think anyone has ever resisted the King's orders before, so that's exactly what I go to do. Just as I'm reaching the steps, his hand curls tightly around my arm and he pulls me back slightly. I whip my head back to look at him, only to find his eyes on the scrape covering the back of my hand. His face darkens and his fangs slide out menacingly as his lips curl back into a snarl.

"What is this?" he asks quietly, sounding as if he is trying his mighty hardest to reign his temper in.

An unpleasant lump builds in my throat. "Um, I just..."

"This was not here before?"

I hesitate uncertainly, because I don't think I've ever seen somebody look so angry before. I'm surprised steam isn't bellowing out of his ear lobes.

"I fell over when I was being pushed into that limo of yours," I explain, with a shrug. "I just scraped the skin off my hands when I used them to break my fall, that's all."

"Pushed into the limousine?" His eyes penetrate mine seriously. "By whom? By one of my guards?"

"Yeah, by that vampire with the lisp. It's no biggie, really. I've gone through worse before, believe me."

"This is not acceptable," he mutters through gritted teeth, and then, there I am, being pulled inside by the wrist like a rag-doll. My eyes seek out my surroundings, and I see a few vampires standing anxiously in the hallway. One of them, I recognize as that rude asshole lispy vampire. He's looking extremely anxious and guilty in a way that satisfies me on some wicked level. "What were my demands?" The Vampire King is shouting, "I asked you to do _one_ simple thing, and that was to keep my human safe and unharmed! Now she arrives with scratches to her hands at your doing!" The lispy vampire is trembling as the Vampire King uses his imposing height to his advantage in getting right up into his personal space; Their faces close together and his stance threatening. "You failed me! It was a simple and easy task, and yet, you _failed_ me with your _incompetence_!"

I can only manage an alarmed choking noise when suddenly the lispy vampires head ricocheted into the air, bounces off the wall, and then tumbles to the floor near my heels with a loud and heavy splatter. Thick gunky blood trickles out onto the carpet from the point where his head has been dismembered, and then the rest of his headless body collapses to the ground an instance later. The absolute sheer horror and disgust of the unexpected and sudden violence shakes me so badly I find it hard to breathe.

Not ever have I seen such a gruesome display of violence.

I'm shocked beyond moving. I can't believe my eyes. All I can do is simply stare at the head a hair lengths away from my heels. And then, horrifying me even more, the King Eric Northman moves to my side, carelessly kicking the head away with the tip of his polished shoe in the process like it is little more than a football to be played with. I risk a glance at his face. He is simply peering down at the dismembered vampires head with hardly any remorse whatsoever. He merely looks... disgusted.

The other vampires in the room seem to share my fear, fortunately. It's very relieving to know I'm not the only one terrified out of their brain about it all.

"I urge all of you to take this as a clear warning," the King Eric goes on, in such a clear and steady voice you wouldn't begin to think he had just been the one responsible for such brutality seconds ago. "Anyone who disobeys me and shows blatant disregard over the safety and wellbeing of my sweetheart mate will end up like this." He clicks his fingers and points down at the dismembered head on the floor. "Now, somebody clean this shit up," he demands in a bossy voice. "Can't you all understand that you are frightening my human?"

It's obviously a sin to keep him waiting, because a guard gets straight into doing that by gathering up a dustpan and broom.

It's also obvious that those rumours I've heard just maybe weren't false after all. Vampires can be scary when it comes to their mate. With all that in mind, I sure don't want to cross this vampire and make him angry. Not ever.

But seriously? All this over a tiny little scratch? What the eff? Talk about melodramatic.

**Hoping you enjoyed this one? What do you think of this Eric? Is he creepy?** **Thanks so much for your sweet reviews. I loved reading them and receiving alerts for the story. So thank you!**


	3. Bathtub Bonding

_**I own nothing to do with True Blood. I'm just a huge fan right here!**_

_**Thank you all so much, it continues to surprise me how kind you are all with your response on this. It definitely encourages me to write faster, so thank you! :) Hoping you enjoy this one and that it's not a disappointment. Thank you for being so kind, it makes my day!**_

_**As for Eric's character, he'll get better. Hopefully it'll be explained in next chapter his reasoning's for being so dramatic with the guard and controlling of Sookie.**_

* * *

_**Chapter Three**_

I can't seem to tear my eyes away from the head.

I know I should look away, and yet, I just can't bring myself to. I feel a cold sweat cover my body, as I stare down at the ripped-apart, stringy mass of dark red entrails that was the neck attached to the vampires head minutes ago.

I have never seen a dead person before. I have never had somebody be slaughtered gruesomely right before my very own eyes, either. I feel disgusted, and sick to my stomach. Yet, at the same time, there is also present this strange morbid sense of fascination.

I guess this is what happens when a less powerful vampire doesn't do what their far stronger King wishes completely of them; They wind up dead, and ripped apart. If I'm not careful, my head will probably end up somewhere on the floor as well.

I watch numbly as the guard gets down on his knees and frantically tries to mop up all the blood with his broom. He manages to get the head into the dustpan, but he's having no success with cleaning it all up spotlessly. The gunky, tar-like blood just seems to want to smear all over the floor like wet paint.

It's even scarier than just any old horror movie, because it's real. It truly did happen, just then. This is real-life and the vampire with the lisp truly is dead and gone now. I feel a strange sense of contentment over that fact, because he was rude to me and he had even gone and insulted me. But at the same time, I feel excruciatingly sad for the vampire. I don't think anybody deserves to go that way. No doubt, it would be a super painful way to go.

I feel my hands wobbling uncontrollably at my sides. Even as I go to clasp them behind my back, it doesn't seem to help any.

I'm only brought out of my shock when I feel someone's hand settling gently on the top of my left shoulder. It rests there, somehow comforting to me. They apply a little pressure with the tips of their cool fingers, and it seems to do the trick in bringing me out of my shock wholly. I turn my chin and peer behind my shoulder, and my insides contract with anxiety. The King is standing behind me, watching the side of my face like a hawk, gauging my reaction. It's his hand and fingers on me; the ones he had just used to violently tear off a head.

I try to smooth out the expression of sheer terror I know is planted on my face. With difficulty, I put on a half-assed smile. My mouth feels all twitchy, but I can only just hope it seems convincing enough.

"I... I've never seen somebody get brutally murdered before," I manage unsteadily. "I've never seen somebody's head being wrenched completely off their neck." Something tells me it's pretty self-explanatory that I haven't.

Things like this just doesn't happen _at all_ in Bon Temps. In horror movies you see at the local theatre, yeah, but... not in real-life.

"It is nothing to be afraid of," The King says quietly. "Death is a natural part of life. Death and murder is not anything to be feared."

What bullshit. "Yeah and it's nothing to be feared of by people like you guys, maybe," I point out, looking back down at the body. The guard has already managed to dispose of the head, but the body is still there. It's so strange... seeing a body without a head on its shoulders. "But usually... this never happens back at home. People are never murdered at home right before your very own eyes senselessly."

"Oh, there was nothing senseless about his death," he mutters under his breath coldly, and I notice there is a dark edge in his tone of voice. "He was a fool. He brought death onto himself. He knew better than anyone that I don't respond well to having my instructions not fully met."

My brain still feels a little slow from the shock, but I still can pick up on how ridiculous he is being. "Oh, right." It takes me a belated moment to remember his hand is still resting on the top of my shoulder, so I deliberately move and step forward a few steps so he can't reach out and touch me any longer. "What was your instructions again? Wasn't it to escort me here? Because, _here I am! Here,_ in your... mansion or palace, or whatever the hell it is that you call this place of yours! He did his job, didn't he?"

"You were there in that room, but it seems you have already forgotten. I _strictly_ said that I would beat the living shit out of anyone of my guards had you been harmed on your way over here." _Get over it,_ his careless voice implies, _I rip people's heads off all the time. What's the big deal?_ "You _were_- as the scratches on your hands indicate- so he got the punishment he rightly deserved for failing my instructions."

Now this was what I initially thought the problem was. I suppose my suspicions were right. He ripped the man's head off, only because I have a few scratches here and there on my hands? Who does that? It's over exaggeration in its truest form. "It was a humongous overreaction. Besides, it was _my fault_ I got the scratches. Why would you feel it necessary to kill him?"

"I do not have to explain my actions to you. And besides, you wouldn't understand."

"Then fine, don't. Why am I even here in the first place?"

"You are my mate, sweetheart," he says simply. "And _I_ am king. I can do what I want, whenever I want it done."

"So I'm stuck in this house with a conscienceless king? Yay for me."

Doing the complete opposite of what I am expecting him to do, he laughs quietly at that remark. I guess I have a wonderful sense of humour when it comes to vampires: They must like their humour dry, sarcastic, and witty. "We are going to make a great pair; you and I." He heaves out a sigh. "Already, I can see that. It makes me very excited for the future."

"And what comes next?" I ask cautiously. "What's supposed to happen now that you've got me here in your home?"

"That is a very good question. But perhaps we can start simple, with me showing you around the perimeters of the place that is going to be your dwelling from here onwards?"

From here onwards?

I'm going to be expected to live here, even when he grants me his immortal kiss and changes me into what he is? My heart sinks. _Well, fantastic._ I can't say I'm real pleased about that. I just can't imagine not seeing my family or my friends anymore. I figure there isn't anything better to do than to have him showing me around his house. I'm going to be spending a lot of time here, so why shouldn't I know everything there is to know about it?

"There are two floors to this house," the King says, getting straight to it. "This room, as you have no doubt already gathered, is the entrance." He turns and jerks his head over to an open doorway that leads into another room. "There is a joined kitchen area, right through there. And, as you will see right over here," - he points towards a winding flight of stairs, made of polished mahogany - "this leads up to the second floor of the house. Shall we go up there?"

I can't think of anything else to do, so I just nod quietly.

He holds his hand out for me to take with a flourish, and I hesitate. He seems to pick up on my indecision with ease.

"You don't need to be frightened of me," he says solemnly. "I have no intentions of hurting you. I would annihilate all of my guards before I even so much as thought to cause you harm intentionally." And, judging by the expression on his face, he seems deadly sincere on it.

Shaking off my reluctance I place my hand in his, feeling how cool and dry his fingers are, and let him take the lead. We step over and dodge the blood staining the floor, and then I follow him slowly up the winding stairs. My heels are a real pain to move in, but fortunately for me, he's considerate enough to help me out by taking his sweet, sweet time.

Once we get to the last step, he's off explaining again, almost proudly. "Up here is the bedroom. No doubt we will be spending a lot of time in there." I can't help but notice his tone goes a little more husky and salacious when he says that.

I don't even need to ask why he expects we will be spending a fair amount of time in the bedroom; I know fair well what's supposed to happen between two people of the opposite sex. I'm not a little girl, and you'd be dumb to think vampires can't do sexual things. From what I've heard around the grapevine, they are overly sexual. It's another thing I'm not too sure what to think about. I'm not exactly what you would call a prude, but I've never had sex before. I haven't even gone out on many dates, which is probably deemed unusual and rare for a girl my age. Sex is just the last thing you have on your mind, when you can hear a person of the opposite sex's thoughts. You'd imagine there isn't anything arousing in hearing a guy thinking about your bosoms or your ass, while you're trying to get down and dirty. For that very reason alone, I've pretty much abstained from anything sexual with a guy. It's not that I don't have any desires to do it, because I do. I've found plenty of guy's at home attractive and nice to look at. It's just that... it's hard for me.

I can't hear this vampires thoughts: There's nothing there but silence, which is both scary and soothing. It takes a load off my mind and I hear myself give out a little sigh of relief. Sex with him would be as easy as taking candy from a baby. (Not that I'd, you know, have sex with him, of course.)

Tearing me out of my not-so-decent thoughts, I hear him call down the hallway impatiently: "Is everything complete in there?"

At first, I don't quite understand what he's saying, until a pair of guards, or servants, whatever, rush out of the room that I'm presuming is the bedroom. They pay no attention to me whatsoever; They just sail right on past hurriedly, as if I'm not holding the King's hand and getting the tour of his palace, as if I'm not even there. But something tells me this vampire likes tooting his own horn. No doubt, he has probably told them in advance not to speak or to so much as even look at me in acknowledgement. After what he did with that lispy vampire... for some reason, it doesn't surprise me one bit if he did. I'm guessing he'll be waiting me all to himself.

He shows me into the bedroom and my mouth literally waters at the sight. Oh, my Lord. There are lots and lots of trays on the bed, filled with food. Every type of food you imagine, you can bet it's there; Ranging from delicious desserts, to scrambled eggs, bacon, and fruits like grapes and sliced peaches. I have never seen so much food in my entire life! The food beckons to me, calls to me to pig out and eat it all. But I don't exactly want to be impolite and presuming, do I? Who knows? Maybe he eats regular, old, human food as well?

"Is this all for me?" I ask, a little breathlessly.

"It is, yes," the King clarifies. "Are you hungry?"

"Hell yes," I sing out, forgetting my manners. "I am so, _so_ hungry."

"Then enjoy." And I don't need to be told twice, that's for sure.

I kind of forget him standing around, when I rush over towards the trays, sampling everything my hands can find. Everything tastes so good. I can't help making little moaning noises of delight as I try everything. I scarf down some peach halves like a homeless woman who has never eaten anything like it before in her entire life. There's even chocolate ice-cream, which I gorge mouthfuls of down at a time. I feel it running down my chin and I feel brain-freeze coming on, but I just don't care. Food is only enjoyable when it's eaten messily. I only begin to remember the King standing around again, when he clears his throat loudly to get my attention. I wipe my face all over my hands before turning and giving him recognition.

"Whoops, sorry," I laugh nervously. "I've just never seen so much food in my entire life! I couldn't resist myself!"

"That is fine," he nods. "However, I do hope you know that now that I have gotten you adequately fed and have accommodated to your needs for human food, that it is only fair you extend the same courtesy to me?"

I stare at him blankly. I'm not quite sure I understand where he is going with this.

"Extend the... the courtesy?" I can only manage stupidly.

"Yes. Extend the courtesy." His eyes hold mine in, and I notice his pupils have enlarged. It's a little... creepy, I can't deny. "It _is _expected, and you _are_ my mate," he whispers, stepping closer towards me, while pulling his hands out of the pockets of his trench-coat. I'm distantly reminded of a panther quietly wading through the grass, waiting for the precise moment to strike and catch his prey off-guard. Why do I get the feeling something bad is about to happen? "But first, I want you in the bathroom."

"The bathroom?"

"Yes, please, the bathroom. I want you to go into the bathroom, which is through the door on the right of where you're standing. I want you to go in there, strip out of your dress and undergarments, and then I want you to allow me to wash your body in the bathtub."

I have a lot of trouble breathing. And a whole lot of trouble swallowing down the saliva coating my tongue as well. I sure as hell wasn't expecting this. "Look, um, I don't know about that," I say, dragging my eyes down to my toes so I don't have to look at him. It's way too embarrassing. "I've never been naked in front of somebody before. I don't think I'm very much... _up _for that just yet."

"Well, I don't recall _asking_ if you were _up_ for it. In fact, I don't recall _asking_ you anything. I'm _not _asking, I'm _telling_."

Oh, wow. Mr. Bossy-Boots. I have half a mind to tell him to shove it where the sun don't shine, but since I saw the way he tore that vampires head off his shoulders... something tells me it won't be a very smart thing of me to do.

"Alrighty then," I say, working to keep my voice strong. "Since you've been so, uhm, generous in giving me all this yummy food, I guess that's a fair deal." Steeling myself, I pull off my heels and then turn around expectantly. "You're going to have to help me out of my dress. I've always found it real tricky to get out of. Just pull the zipper down, please."

I hear him come up behind me, and my breath hitches in my throat as I hear the zipper come undone. My dress loosens around my shoulders, and I can only thank Gran for making me wear a bra. There's this unpleasant feeling in my stomach; An anxious feeling, like butterflies are flying around in there. I wasn't lying when I said no one has seen me naked and exposed before. I think that scares me most of all.

His hands come up around my shoulders and I stiffen, feeling paralyzed underneath them. His long fingers glide across the outline of my collarbone; tracing the bones sticking out of my skin, making me shiver. It takes time to get used to how different his skin feels. Then I feel him move in closer, right behind me that I feel his chest brushing up against my back, and with the angle I'm standing in, I can only just see it out of the corner of my eye as he leans down and inhales in the fragrance of my skin through his nostrils. Suddenly, I feel like food being sniffed at by a ravenous dog. It isn't very nice at all.

"Oh," I hear him whimper out hoarsely into the curve of my shoulder-blade, and I know it's because, since I'm his supposed mate, he finds my scent the most intoxicating and delicious of all. "Actually, how about we forget about the bathtub and the bathing?"

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, excuse me," he breathes into my shoulder quietly. I get a bad feeling immediately. I feel almost as if he is going to bite me, but just as I'm getting too worried, he backs away from me quickly. The tension leaves my body at once. As if removing himself from a hazardous situation, he hurries into the bathroom. I can hear him fussing around in there all the way from where I stand. "I am over a thousand-years-old," I hear him murmuring softly, but I can't be sure whether he is actually talking to me or just to himself. "Why am I having trouble controlling myself now?"

He makes a deep grunting noise, and then I hear him switching on the taps and filling up the bathtub.

"Show a little self-control. You are not weak..."

_Hmm._ I guess vampires talk to themselves too. _They_ do it, _we_ do it._ Everybody_ does it.

"Have you removed your dress and undergarments yet?" he shouts suddenly out at me, and he's _definitely_ talking to me this time around.

It just brings my dilemma back to the surface.

I've never been entirely comfortable with my body. I have doubts, like everybody else.

How does one let themselves be so vulnerable in letting another see their naked body; flaws and all?

I know the root of the problem is mainly because I don't know this man. He's a stranger to me, and I'm being pushed into this situation without any say. I can't help it that I'm his mate. It is something I am _completely_ powerless in.

"The bathtub is ready. Please, come."

I take in a deep breath and let it all out again. Then, since I can't see any way of getting out of this, I just force myself into sliding out of my dress. Trying not to think too much, I pull the straps of my bra down, swerve it 'round so that I can unclasp it easily, and then I wiggle out of my underwear, just as quickly. I don't think I have ever felt so nervous in my entire life; My legs are shaking, my hands are shaking. Every part of me is literally shaking.

Before I lose my nerve, I tread into the bathroom, ignoring him best I possibly can. Only it's kind of hard to.

"Look at me," he orders, his voice gentle. Although I don't want to, I just do. I meet his eyes. He has discarded his leather trench coat and is wearing a tight, opened-neck shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows; Probably so he won't get them all wet. Something tells me he loves wearing black. "You are a beautiful human."

I don't believe him; Not for a second. No one has ever called me beautiful before. It leaves me feeling flustered big time. "Liar," I whisper, smiling shyly at him. "But thanks."

I don't feel as self-conscious as I climb in and immerse my exposed body into the water. The warmth of the water just seems to ebb all my nerves away surprisingly. But then they are back again, when he kneels down and reaches over me for the soap that's on its holder. My breathing increases as I watch his hands handling the bar of soap, lathering it up, and I'm just dying to cover myself away from him all over again. Even his hands are daunting to me; They are just so large and sinewy. You can see the strength in them just in the way he handles the soap, as if he is going out of his way to be real delicate with it. I don't even know what his reasons were for wanting all of this; Maybe he just wanted to see my body, or show me a little tenderness or... _something_?

"Sookie," he says quietly, as if he is testing my name out on the tip of his tongue thoughtfully. "Sookie Stackhouse."

"Yep, that's me. Don't wear my name out."

"Is Sookie short for something?"

"Nope, I'm just... Sookie," I breathe out nervously.

"It is a very unusual name?" I can't look him in the face, as he lifts up one of my arms and starts washing me meticulously. For some reason, his touch sends a thrill straight through me. "I don't believe I have heard it before."

I have no idea why he's bothering to bring all of this up, but then it kind of dawns on to me that maybe he is just distracting me so I feel less nervous. If so, it's working. "My parent's liked unusual names, I suppose. I guess it turned out right for me in the end, because I'm certainly not what anyone would call... ordinary. Sookie _is_ an unusual name for an unusual girl like myself."

"Oh, really? And what makes you think you are so unusual compared to other humans?"

I scold myself for my carelessness: I know I shouldn't tell him anything about my gift, and I very nearly did. But I repair the error I've made, just in the nick of time. "I guess I'm not_ so_ unusual, after all," I tell him. "I'm mostly like all humans that you've probably met. There's really nothing at all different about me in the slightest, aside from my kooky name."

"Move forward," he says, and I scoot a bit in the tub so that he can do around my back. "There certainly isn't anything ordinary about your scent."

"Isn't there?" I ask, surprised. I can't smell myself, though, so how would I know if there was?

"I have lived for a very, _very_ long time, and I can honestly say that a human has never smelled as delectable as you do."

_Delectable... Sounds very much like food. Freaky._

"I really smell_ that_ different?"

"You do," he confesses, and he even licks his lips.

"I thought that was the way it was supposed to be, though?" I ask, a little nervously. "I've heard about scenting. You find your mate because the smell of their blood stands out to you, even in a room full of others?"

"Yes, that is true." He inhales deeply as he gets a washcloth and starts scrubbing over my back and around my shoulders with it. "What else do you know about that?"

I get a little distracted, when he reaches around with the washcloth. He starts washing each one of my breasts and I feel myself flush with heat all over. It's so difficult to hold a conversation when somebody is doing stuff to your body. I can't pretend it isn't nice to be pampered though.

"Not... much. But I _do_ know that sooner or later you are going to turn me into a vampire like yourself."

"You don't sound particularly excited by that?"

"Well, that's because I'm not. Truth be told, I don't want to be a vampire."

"Oh? And why ever not?"

"Because then I'd be obliged to watch my family and friends, those who matter most to me of all, grow old and die. And then I'd feel depressed and lost without them."

"That is a reasonable enough answer, but it wouldn't be entirely the case, would it? There would be someone in this world you would still be with, someone you could live on forever with, somebody you even... loved."

"And who would that be?" I ask, not getting it.

"Me, of course."

"_You_?" I repeat dubiously. "But I don't even _know_ you, and I don't love you."

"But you _will_ love me eventually," he says, sounding so assured on that. He lifts his eyes to meet mine as he starts washing up my legs, my thighs, and then all the way back down to my ankles again in the water. I thought I would have felt uncomfortable by somebody doing something like this to me, only I don't. It helps that he isn't leering openly at my body every chance he gets; There doesn't seem to be anything sexual about him washing me at all. He just only seems to want to be honest and chat. "My time has arrived, and now, here you are. This is what it is all about. This is about companionship and... also, the preserving of the vampire race. Soon, you will grow to love me and I will grow to love you." He smiles slightly and it's a little disconcerting with his fangs extended and all. "And the truth, Sookie Stackhouse, is that I used to feel so envious of those who had success before me, those other vampires."

"Envious? Why would you feel envious?"

"Because they had already found their mate. Certain things in this world can make you feel shallowly happy: Wealth, material possessions- and they did for me, for a while there. Only I started envying those who had already succeeded in finding their mate, because that is the true, everlasting source for happiness on this earth." His deep words sure did make sense to me. I believe that myself; Materialistic things can only make you happy for so long, but nothing can be as fulfilling as family and friends. _Love_, even. "And _now_," he goes on quietly, his eyes still not leaving mine, "This is where it _really_ begins."

Under his gaze, I find it a little hard to breathe. Even when he makes it clear on me that he's done washing me by wringing out the washcloth and leaning back on his heels, his eyes still don't cease contact with mine. What he has said has definitely given me a lot of food for thought.

**I am hoping this one wasn't a let-down? I am so very sorry if it is. Hope you don't mind Eric being a bit bossy, but he'll be soft around the edges as well, especially when it comes to Sookie. Thank you guys for being so lovely and amazing, I still get super nervous about updating, but you all have definitely encouraged me, so I thank you! **

**P.S: Happy New Years and hope you have a wonderful time celebrating! Next update will be arriving in next few days! Thank you!**


	4. Needs

**I own nothing to do with True Blood. I'm just a huge fan!**

**Whoa, I want to thank you all so much! I was so surprised by the response on this story, and I'm very flattered! You're all so nice and it's very motivational on me to write when I receive alerts in my inbox. I never expected anyone to like it or be interested, so it's a huge shock! Thank you!**

**I'm hoping this one isn't bad. I'm so sorry if it is!**

**I hope you've all had a great start to the New Year! Last year went so quickly!**

**P.S: For those thinking I was trying to make it sexy with the bath scene previous chapter, I wasn't- that wasn't my intentions, so if it didn't seem sexy, then that's a good thing as I wasn't trying to make it seem as such. It was meant to be more of a nurturing thing.**

**In this, a mate's "pheromones" is potent to a vampire. i.e.; the scent of their blood is intoxicating and hard to resist (hence why in a room they stand out). That was where I was going with that scene; Eric liking her scent a bit too much to the point it was disturbing. There is also no synthetic blood in this alternate universe I'm writing about, and at times it can be an ugly and scary world.**

** Also, Eric won't be a domineering character, or that whole dom/submissive thing (I think everybody has read 50 Shades and doesn't need another like it). It isn't meant to be going down that path. He's meant to seem creepy and off-putting, because that is exactly Sookie's perspective; She doesn't know how to view him as she doesn't know him very well. Plus, him beheading one of his guards doesn't put a very good impression on someone. And yes, he has been "in-charge" as such for a very long time and its almost second nature for him to be sending out orders, but with Sookie it won't be a very frequent occurrence.**

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_

"Now it is time I wash your hair. Submerge your head under the water for me, please."

I tense, as King Eric gets to his knees and reaches over me to clasp my head carefully in his hands, urging me lower into the water.

My throat tightens to the point where I feel I'm about to suffocate. Being held by the head by some stranger whose intentions you aren't so sure of isn't the most comforting feeling in the world, but I work some to calm myself down. My heart feels its hammering in my chest unpleasantly and it's awfully hard to swallow.

Usually water hasn't been something I'm afraid of: I have always been a good swimmer. Not the best swimmer in the world, but I can stop myself from drowning. Only with him holding my head and lowering me in, who knows what could happen to me?

I reach up with my hands and cling onto the ledge of the bathtub for dear life, just for something to hold onto in case he thinks of doing anything unpleasant. I shiver as my head dips into the water, and it isn't anything to do with the mild temperature of it; I stare up at him anxiously as he slips one hand around the back of my neck, holding me just at the water's surface, while his other hand smooths out my hair into the water, getting it soaked strand by strand. His look is intensely concentrated, and I'm not sure why. It's like he has to really restrain himself from being harsh in his touch with me.

"Are you frightened of me?" he asks gently, with only curiosity in his tone of voice. "Do you think I am going to drown you?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't say I'm frightened." I think of how to put it. "More like... cautious after what I saw you do with that guard in tearing his head off with your own bare hands. Suddenly it makes me almost... self-aware of my fragility compared to you."

"These bare hands won't hurt you." To illustrate his point, I think, he cups water in his hand and slowly lets it trickle over my forehead, then he brushes my hair back away from my face delicately with his fingertips. "You can rest assured knowing that I won't ever touch you forcefully or roughly."

"Then why did you rip that vampire's head off?" With my ears under the water, my voice seems to be coming to me from a far-off place. "Or do you make a habit of it when you're cranky?"

"It was rash of me, I admit," he says slowly, with deep regret. "But this is a vampire-dominated household. The only humans in this house is yourself, and a woman I employed recently, called Ginger. I have provided her a guest room and a steady income and have also assured her no harm will come to her from myself, or from others in this household. But seeing as I only have one pair of eyes, I can't always ensure her safety. The vampires working for me are loyal and trustworthy enough, but not so much that I would trust them to be in a room alone with Ginger. It is much the same with you."

Finally, he lets me sit up from the water. I guess he is satisfied with washing my hair, _thank goodness_. I can only be relieved it's all over. I wring out my wet hair of water with my hands, and let it fall deliberately over my breasts.

"And as with what you witnessed before, I only did it to assert my power. We have more vampires here, than humans; I didn't want them taking advantage of you. A man of my liege is expected to assert his power, every now and then, otherwise no one will take him seriously. You have to reassert control every now and then, or else everybody will walk all over you. When you are in a position such as I am, you have to instill fear."

"Is that what you're going to do with me? Instill fear in me?"

"No, you are more of my equal than anyone else in this place. You are my human. I will not treat you as I treat the servants or my guards. They are my subordinates, whereas you are far superior than them."

I tilt my head to the side, considering that. I sure don't feel like his equal. "Well, I don't feel that way. You practically bossed me around when you told me to get out of my clothes and into the bathtub?"

With strange affection, he reaches over to brush a piece of my hair away from my face. "Is that the way you see it?"

"Yep, I pretty much do." I curl my hands around my knees and bring my legs up, hoping it will ease my nerves in being naked in front of him. And it does, a little at least. "And, I'll have you know, I've always had authority issues," I go on stoutly, hardly caring what I'm telling him. It tends to happen when I'm nervous: My mouth just refuses to quit running. "Half the time I wouldn't listen to my Grandmother, when I was a little girl. If you're hoping to boss me about, you're going to be disappointed by the results."

"Disappointed? Hardly." He gives out a short, husky laugh. "In fact, I find that about you rollicking. I have enough people in here that attempt to kiss my ass on a nightly basis. If you don't hesitate to speak your mind, if you don't censor your thoughts around me- like everybody else does here- I won't get angry with you. I only find it refreshing." His eyes roam over my face in appreciation and I have to tear my eyes away from his gaze. He sure seems to know how to make me feel uncomfortable. "As I said, no harm will come to you from my hands. You don't need to fear me."

I can't deny I find him telling me that wildly reassuring. I'm just not so sure I believe him. Steeling myself, I force my eyes to meet his again. The way he is sitting has changed, and so quickly; He is a lot closer to me than he was before. One elbow is perched on the ledge of the bathtub, and a hand is resting in front of his mouth, nursing his chin. My eyes are drawn to his mouth in a way it can't be helped; I have never seen a vampires fangs up close and personal. The sharp, white tips peek out, making a home against the skin of his bottom lip. I can't help but feel fascinated by them. I can't help but wonder how they feel against your skin, piercing your flesh. Would it be painful or would you just feel a rush of excitement? All this wondering on them makes my face scorch with heat. Surely I have better things to be worrying about, don't I?

"What am I meant to call you?" I blab, without thinking.

"Call me?" he asks, with some confusion.

"Yeah," I blather on. "Am I meant to call you Sir, or Master? Your Highness, maybe?"

"No, of course not. As I said, you are my equal. You may call me anything you like. Most of all, I would encourage you to address me as simply Eric. Just Eric."

"Okay then, 'Just Eric'. While I'm somewhat enjoying talking to you, the water is starting to get a little cold. May I get out of the bathtub now?"

"Of course you may." He rises from the bathroom floor and leaves me for a moment. I take it to my advantage in hurrying out of the bathtub and snatching a white towel from a rack that is hanging on the wall. By the time he comes in again, holding a robe out to me that is red and black, I'm already safely covered with the towel draped over my shoulders, hiding my shivering, damp body from his sight. "Here, put this on," he says quietly, handing the garment to me. He turns around and gives me privacy while I slide my arms into it. The robe feels like satin and it's miles too big for me; I have to push the long sleeves to my elbows and tie up the sash around my waist real tight since it's so baggy on me. "I'm going to have to arrange for some garments for you. I'm a little unprepared. Are you warm enough in that or can I get you something more as well?"

God gifted me with reasonably big bosoms and when you don't wear a bra, it's noticeable. But since I'm not completely naked to him any more and my body is mostly covered in the robe, who am I to complain?

"No, thanks. I'm good."

My damp hair clings to the silky fabric and I'm pretty sure, since I'm cold and all shivery, my nipples are standing out. But whether he stole a look at me in the bath or not, he's washed my exposed body and seen it all, more than any man ever has before. What's the big deal? Complaining won't do me any good.

"Who does this robe belong to?"

"It belongs to me."

Oh, fantastic. So now I'm wearing his clothing? Oh, well. There really isn't much I can do about that, is there? I guess I'll just have to suffer in silence...

"This feels a bit... odd, truth be told."

"What does?"

"Not wearing anything underneath this. Half the time I usually never take my bra off," I admit, because I have to be honest. "Even when I go to bed, I always wear a bra and panties. It's just the way I was brought up."

"I see." He turns around slowly to look at me. I find I liked him better when he wasn't looking at me. "Are you ashamed of your body?"

"I wouldn't say I'm ashamed of it exactly. It's just that... I got my self-doubts, like everybody else on the planet. I like... keeping myself covered up, I guess, because I was born and raised to see bodies are something you don't expose unless you're in private."

"There is nothing indecent about being naked. We all have bodies. They are nothing to be ashamed of. And, I might as well add, I think your body is sublime; To cover it up would be a travesty."

I can't help looking away. This is the second time he has said something real sweet. I'm not used to it. "Oh. Thanks?"

"You don't get a great deal of compliments, do you?"

"Honestly? Nope, I don't."

"I can tell. You shy away from looking at me."

"Am I that obvious?"

"I am just looking closely, I admit. I find your... facial expressions interesting."

_Interesting? My facial expressions? Okeydokey then._

"If you are hungry, the food is still out there."

Taking that as my cue, I head back into the other room, ignoring him. The trays are exactly in the same place as they previously were, on the bed; a delicious assortment of different foods. I'm not as hungry as I first was, but I'm still feeling a bit peckish.

"Thank you. I might just take you up on that..."

I sit down on the bed, crossing my legs. When there are lots of different foods in front of you, it's hard to know what to pick. I settle on those peaches again; I don't think I've ever had any that were so juicy before. Although distracted by the food, I'm not distracted enough to fail to notice the King sit beside me on the bed. I can feel his eyes watching me, as I pick and pick at peach slices. My hands feel all sticky and I'm positive juice is rolling down my chin, but I just can't seem to care. Nothing I do will prevent the outcome of anything. I know that much. Wiping my hand over my chin to be polite, I turn to look at him. He is just sitting there, watching me curiously as I eat.

"Is it true you can't eat any of this food?"

"Yes, it is. Regrettably, that old pleasure is denied to me."

"How come? I mean, you swallow blood, right? If you can digest blood, then why can't you digest regular old food, as well?"

"That is a good question: I have often wondered that myself. The only logical explanation I can come up with is that, although my organs function in a similar manner to yours, my body chemistry has been altered. I now can only ingest solely human blood."

I nod and swallow down some peach. "I've heard through the rumour mill that you've got a few slaves locked away here that you do unholy things to. Is that true?"

"Ask any vampire in my position whether they have slaves and not a single one of them could truthfully deny that they don't."

"So you _do _have slaves here?"

A little reluctantly, he nods. "I do."

"And what do you do to them?" I ask. I know it isn't something I truthfully want to hear about, but I feel I've just got to know.

"It's exactly as what I said, previously, about this being a vampire-dominated household. We all require blood to exist, and the best way for that is to have a human near. I am responsible for all vampires here in my home, and that also means I need to cater to their needs for human blood as well."

"So... you keep human slaves locked away so you can all feed on them when the need strikes you?" I repeat, and outrage burns within me. How is that nice? "That's wrong. How can you do something like that to somebody?"

"At first, they were frightened, but slowly they got used to it. They got used to the experience of being fed on, and that fear turned into pleasure. You wouldn't understand, as no doubt you have not experienced it for yourself, but when a human becomes accustomed to the experience, they almost crave it. They begin to enjoy it themselves. They almost become... addicted to the experience. To the rush it presents them. And, like Ginger, I have vowed to treat them well; They have their own rooms, they get their daily food and water. And, thanks to how advanced medicine is now they also take their iron supplements regularly so they don't get too weak or anaemic. They don't seem to mind it."

"But do you keep them chained up? Do you punish them?"

"Not often," he admits quietly. "They are not chained and bound here in a room. They are allowed to roam this house and the gardens whenever they please. Punishment is only received when they do a wrong-doing, such as intentionally hurting any of my men. Punishing them hasn't been necessary. For as long as I have been King, I have only had to punish a human once, and that was when she hid a silver knife in her robe and attempted to endanger one of my men with it while he was preoccupied with feeding off of her."

"Even if you say you treat them well most of the time, it's still wrong," I tell him, unable to hide my disgust. "You're treating people like me as if they are nothing. How is that right?"

He nods to himself at my words, but he doesn't say anything in response. He doesn't admit to how wrong it is, or how inhumane it is. How downright evil. And what if it's me? My stomach goes into knots again. What if I'm meant to be one of those humans, only sorely for this King's benefit?

"Am I meant to be your new slave? Am I... a pet or a... blood slave person to you?"

"Of course not. You are more of an honoured house guest. That's merely it." I find it hard to swallow down the food in my mouth, when he turns his shining blue eyes to meet mine with nothing but solemn earnesty. There is just something about him that's terrifying, yet just by the way he looks at me, I can't even begin to doubt his words. He seems to mean everything he is saying one hundred percent. Still, I won't be trusting him completely until I have a good enough reason for it. "I won't compel you to do anything you are uncomfortable with."

"Why not? What makes me the exception, when you practically do it with the other humans you've got in here?"

"That is a very good question. I don't know the answer to that myself. All I know is that I detest the very thought of hurting you. I want you to be comfortable here in my royal court. I want you to regard this as your home, a place where you belong. Somewhere that you can feel secure in and protected."

"But I already have a home, and that's where I was born and raised in Bon Temps."

"And I was born and raised in Sweden as a human a millennium ago. But as you can see, I have adapted well to the change. Now, I consider America my true homeland. In time, you will feel the same about being here." He was born in Sweden? That's funny, because I can hear no definable accent in his voice. Maybe he has learned to hide it, being as old as he apparently is?

"My real home will always be where my Grandmother and older brother are," I insist tartly.

His eyes find his shoes on the floor. "Well, I regret that you feel that way then," King Eric says grimly. "This would be a good home for you. You might even enjoy it here."

I'm moved into a sudden, fierce rage. Since he doesn't want me censoring my thoughts, I won't bother with it.

"I could never enjoy it here," I hiss under my breath. "A home is never a true home without those you love in it. You say you like me speaking my mind, so I'll tell you: I think this world is fucked-up. This is a bad world we are living in. What's so good about it, when there are people like you in it? Taking a girl away from her home because she's your mate? Making her live with you, and eventually... turning her into what you are? That's why I can never find happiness in this place. So long as I'm here, I won't be happy, and I will never consider this place my home."

He presses his lips together, moved to anger himself now. I can just tell he is. "As I said, I regret you feel that way."

"Do you, really?" I ask sceptically. "If you do, then why can't you let me go? Let me go home, where I belong?"

"There are certain obligations I have. This is one of them."

"But you're a_ King_! Surely you can do whatever the hell you want?"

"I may be King, but even _I_ have a ruler, someone far more powerful than myself. It's the natural order. This is my obligation, as King. I mightn't like it myself; I might believe, as you do, that this is wrong, but... there is nothing I can do." There's a defeat in his tone that surprises me. "That said, the only thing I _can_ do is make this as easy on you as I possibly can. I will not treat you as a slave or a servant. Anything you do, it will be of your own choice. I will not wrong you, or treat you unfairly."

"But I don't want to be an immortal," I point out desperately, and my voice shakes in a way I'm embarrassed of. "Being a vampire... it's the worst thing in the world to me!"

"I can only give you time," he says quietly. "But sooner or later, it _has_ to happen, as proclaimed by the higher Vampire Authority. You _must_ become one of us. I can only give you time, until you are fully ready."

"And what if I'm _never_ ready?"

"Then I suppose it'll have to be done by force."

"But you _just said_ you wouldn't force me into anything, and now you're saying you will, when it comes to me being changed into a vampire?"

"Because this is what is expected of me, Sookie. Even _I_ have someone in higher power than me, and this is the way it has to be done. This is what is required, for all Kings of the states. There is no way that I can change it; It _has_ to be done."

Suddenly, the stickiness of my face and fingers annoys me. Since I'm so angry, everything is enough to irritate me. I lick my fingers and try to wipe my face. This entire thing just isn't fair at all.

"You don't have to see it as a bad thing," King Eric goes on, quietly and reluctantly. "As with all things, it can be both a blessing and a curse; With immortality comes great power. With immortality comes endless possibilities. You could live on for a millennium, as I have. You could experience so much; grow so much wisdom. You could learn many things, master many things. You could see the future change, and all its new inventions that are created. You could live with me; We could teach each other many things. We could travel the world together."

And I can't deny it does have its perks; What he is telling me. But it isn't without its bad points, either. I wouldn't be able to see my family ever again. My Grandmother would die, and then my brother would soon follow, while I would just live on. I couldn't stand that. I won't stand that.

"But I would be without my family," I say. "It's like what I told you. I would only be sad, knowing that I've lost them."

"And it was the same for me, also," he confesses, in a voice so inaudible it is almost difficult to hear him properly. "I have lost many. But with time, you begin to forget. You still have those vague memories of those you loved, those you cherished years before. You never forget them entirely. But the best of their memories stay with you. It becomes a fond pastime to reflect on."

"Well, _obviously_ I don't see it the way you do. I can't live like that."

"A natural part of being a human is that you learn to adapt in any given situation," he says. "It's in human nature. Look at me, for instance: I learned how to adapt, and I am over a thousand years old." He shifts slightly on the bed to look at me. "You will do the same, because it's what humans do. I became a vampire a millennium ago when I was turned by Godric, who is now King of Oklahoma."

"The King of Oklahoma changed you into a vampire?" I ask, astonished. I have heard about Godric, King of Oklahoma. It was broadcasted on television a few years ago, the announcement that he had met his mate. I couldn't remember much of it, though.

"He did, but there was no such thing as Kings of the state back then. He was the very first vampire I met. His ability to empathize with humanity was remarkable."

"Did it hurt, when he changed you?"

He pauses, thinking very seriously for a moment. And then, he looks at me and shrugs.

"I can't remember now. It was so long ago. What I do remember was not anything about the pain I felt of being changed. It was actually more of what happened, with Godric at my side, as my maker. The only thing I remember of the change, was waking as if from a deep sleep, buried in soil. It's all I remember of the change. Waking from what felt like a long sleep. But that side of it is dull, compared to how it was, living a new life as an immortal with my creator at my side. It's indescribable, how it felt to awaken at night as a new creature- a new person, almost."

"And that's what makes me reluctant, most of all; I don't want to become a changed person, unlike who I am now. Were you bloodthirsty? Could you stop yourself from slaughtering people for their blood?"

"It won't be as it was for me with you," he assures me, although I don't believe him for a minute. "You will have me to guide you, every step of the way. I will teach you everything. You won't have to go through it alone."

Everything he is saying quickly becomes overwhelming on me; It's like the same feeling I have, when I'm in a crowded room full of people's thoughts that I can hear, with my telepathy. And like all those many times before it, I find myself urgently needing a minute.

"This is a lot to take in. I find myself overwhelmed," I whisper, breathless. "Give me a moment, please." And he does. He gives me more than a moment to gather my thoughts.

He just sits patiently, letting me breathe and process everything in. My mind can't be swayed, though. I guess I can be very stubborn when I want to be. When I'm ready, I let him know by making a gesture with one of my hands silently. When he starts again, I find myself thankful when he makes a sudden change of topic to our conversation.

"Tell me, Sookie: Have you been in the company of a vampire before?"

"Nope, I can't say I have."

"Does the fact that you are now frighten you in some way?"

"Not... really," I admit slowly. "I'm more so wary, than frightened. Since I'm inexperienced with this, I'm just not entirely sure what to expect here."

"Well, let me start by telling you- as I explained before, with the food issue- that we have certain... needs that are different from yours. Since you are my mate, there are particular expectations of you that must be met."

"What kind of expectations?"

"Your welfare is extremely important to me, and, hopefully, you will feel exactly the same way towards me in time. I catered to your needs of human food for sustenance, and I will continue to do so. But it must be exchanged and you must show me the same courtesy. This is all about caring and sharing; We both have particular needs that have to be met in order to survive. You, for example, need food and water daily, otherwise you will weaken and get unwell."

"Go on," I prompt eagerly.

"In much the same way, I need something that is vital for my own sustenance. It is only something that _you_ can give me, and _you_ alone."

"Blood?" I guess confidently. I know I'm right. I'm not a fool, and I haven't forgotten our previous conversation.

"Yes, that is correct. I need blood."

"And you're wanting me to give it to you?" It's kind of a no-brainer, really.

"Affirmative," he nods, sounding pleased.

"How are we meant to go about that?"

"Well..." Reaching over with his hand, he tucks a piece of my damp hair behind my ear gently with his fingers; his eyes focusing on a point on my neck. "I'm going to have to bite you with my fangs, and then I am going to have to suck in some of your blood, Sookie."

**Thanks so much for being so kind. I hope you're interested in more and that I'm not portraying the characters too strangely? :)**


	5. For You Are Mine, At Last

_**Hello again.**_

_**I want to thank you all so much. You encourage me to write and update quickly. Just as usual, I am hoping this one doesn't come as a total let-down to you. Thank you so much for being so kind and supportive. I have my doubts while writing and a few reviews I have received which weren't so supportive, but thank you.**_

_**Lyrics are to song At Last by Etta James. **_

* * *

_**Chapter Five**_

Coldness trickles throughout my veins as his words slowly sink into my addled brain. He expects me to feed him, provide him my blood for sustenance, give a crucial part of what makes me human away to him.

He drops his fangs at me, sharp and glistening above his bottom lip, and without any control on it whatsoever, I gasp and flinch back on the mattress.

He wants to use them on me. He wants to pierce my flesh with them, cause me pain. How can I willingly agree to that? I don't want it. I don't think I'll ever want it.

He doesn't want me censoring my thoughts to him, my words. So again, I don't bother. "You said you wouldn't compel me into doing something I wasn't ready for," I say unsteadily, sending his words right back at him to make a point. "Well, this is one thing that I'm not very comfortable with right now."

Like clockwork, he puts his fangs away. I flinch, even then.

"Well, Sookie; that is fine."

I stare at him, dumbfounded. I expected many things. My body is even tense; coiled and ready on the bed to spring away, if need be. I expected a fight. I sure never expected a quick and easy pass. I guess I assumed it was the vampire way of dealing with this: Rough, brutal, not taking 'No' as an answer.

"_Fine_?" I repeat in a disgracefully uneven voice. "So that's it, huh? You're not going to even try to force me?"

"Force you?"

Squirming uncomfortably, I tighten the robe around my neck, shielding it from his view. I don't want him feeling anymore tempted than he likely already is to bite and feed off of me. "Well, yeah. I wasn't expecting you to just say it was fine, and let me be?"

"As I said, I won't compel you into doing anything you aren't ready for. You just said it yourself, and I did say that. Until you're ready, my fangs stay off."

"So you really won't?" I peer over at him uncertainly. I can't say I believe him at all.

"I won't ever," he assures me, and he sounds nothing but utterly sincere. "What? Were you expecting me to say 'Too fucking bad, your blood is _mine_,' and just go ahead and do it despite your reservations?"

"Kind of, yeah."

"Well, I am not going to."

"So you're really not going to be forcing me into anything?" I ask nervously, just to be sure. "You're not going to feast on me until you've got my consent, or do anything unless I'm completely and totally ready for it?"

"I am _not_ going to do anything," King Eric says, his voice very gentle. "Not until you're practically screaming that you're ready to convince me of it."

"Well, you'll probably be waiting a very long time," I inform him tartly. "Because I can't imagine I'll ever be screaming and begging for anything from you."

"You can't be entirely certain of that, sweetheart. You might surprise yourself. Besides, who knows? Within time I may just very well grow on you."

"I'd rather grow a third-eye on my forehead," I mumble, affronted.

He hoots quietly with laughter at that. "You are very humorous," he observes wryly. "How refreshing."

"Believe me; it isn't intentional of me to be."

"You're a barrel of laughs, aren't you?"

"Like I just said, it's not intentional," I retort stiffly. "I don't think you really find me funny at all. I think you're just laughing at me in a way that's meant to be degrading."

"No, it _is_ quite the contrary." And yet again, he sounds nothing but sincere, damn him. "It's transparent that you think low of me. Hopefully, your opinion of me will change once we spend more time together and you can learn to trust me and see that _I_ am not bad. You should consider yourself lucky that it is me and not anyone else of the States."

"Why should I count myself lucky?"

"Because other vampire Kings of the States aren't so... _nice_ when it comes to their human. Have you heard of Stan, King of Texas?"

"Vaguely I've heard of him, sure."

"He met his mate while she was touring the country from her homeland in England. Blindly she walked into a room without knowing he was in it, and then because he knew, without explanation to her whatsoever, he removed her from the room forcefully, took her back to his royal court, and chained her up. Since he holds the human race in very low regard, he already was inexperienced on how to deal with them. He starved her unintentionally because he was _that_ dumb enough not to know she required food and water. He shackled her to a wall to prevent her from escaping. He was _that incompetent_ that he didn't know how to deal with her."

"Is she still_ alive_?" I ask in unconcealed horror.

"Luckily, she is. But she barely made it, because she was so severely malnourished and dehydrated. Most vampires are ignorant; Most knowledge they have of your human race is that they are merely good sustenance because of the blood that thrives within them. As I said, you could do a lot worse than being stuck with me."

I think his words over seriously for a moment: I suppose he could be right on that. Not once he has been completely forceful with me. It sure was disturbing, getting naked in front of him and slipping into a warm bath while he washed and scrubbed me, but he didn't do anything else I was really uncomfortable with. He's not forcing me to let him feed off of me. He has also given me an abundance of different foods to eat. He hasn't chained me as yet. He hasn't called me any demeaning names or has been too rude to me yet. He has also been very attentive to my needs and seems as if he genuinely wants me comfortable on some level in his royal court. I suppose things _could be_ a lot worse.

But the unignorable drawbacks to this is that I'll be expected to live here. I probably won't be able to go back to my normal life before all of this happened; I mightn't get the chance to see my Grandmother and my brother ever again. Plus, to top that all off, he intends to give me his immortal kiss one of these days and turn me into the immortal that he is. He's unnerving in everything he does: To the way he looks at me, with silent longing and undistinguished appreciation; To the way he's constantly inhaling in the fragrance of my scent. Although the words he speaks about not hurting me are said with the utmost integrity, I still don't know whether I should consider him trustworthy.

But, hey. At least I'm not being neglected or totally mistreated.

I guess I've come out lucky compared to others. He isn't so bad, despite how... hair-raising to be around him it may be. I don't have it nearly as bad as other mates do, if his story about King Stan of Texas has any stock or truth to it.

I must be thinking about all of this so hard that I don't even realize King Eric has already gotten to his feet and is looming over me on the bed, until I snap myself out of it: I peer up at him, find him looking down at me conflictedly in silence. He bites down on his bottom lip, obviously unsure of what to say to me. Then he waves around the room awkwardly with his right hand.

"Well, Sookie," he says quietly. "I suppose I'll give you some space so you can settle in."

I nod at him wordlessly, finding myself thankful. I wonder if he can read my mind, because space from him was exactly just what I was needing. It's been a long day, and big things have happened suddenly and dramatically. I need some time to think and get my head around it. But, most of all: I feel as if I need some privacy to grieve. I've held the tears in all night, and exhaustion permeates me brutally.

I'm in dire need of a good sobbing session.

And plus, if I'm going to cry, this room was the best place to do it in, with no disruptions and no prying eyes to see me being weak. Then come tomorrow when I'm in his company again, I can pretend I've been so strong and that I haven't wept a single tear since being brought to this strange palace of his.

With the King's broad back to me, I feel my throat tighten and my body start to tremble. But frustratingly enough, tears refuse to come out, no matter how much I desperately will them to. I think I'm almost too tired and numb to cry. The only thing I feel is desire to be somewhere else: Back home, safely in my room, in my warm pyjamas and not in some stranger's luxurious satin robe. Closest thing to tears that escapes me is a funny despairing little noise at the back of my throat.

And it seems it has erupted at the wrong time...

The King Eric has just only reached the door when he quite obviously hears it. _Oh, no. It's not meant to go down this way. He isn't meant to see, no less hear, me cry!_ He stops suddenly, and his entire tall frame tenses up, as if alarmed or concerned. Then, much to my dismay, he turns and looks at me from behind his right shoulder. There is something in his shining blue eyes that I never expected to see: A silent sorrow, almost. He feels pity for me, like I'm a wounded, pathetic animal.

"Are you alright?" he asks, and his tone of voice sounds just as low in spirits as the expression in his eyes does.

"I... I think so," I manage, not sincerely.

"Would you like for me to stay longer?" he asks uncertainly. It's obvious he hasn't been in the same room as an upset person before. "Or can I get you something to make you feel more comfortable?"

_Well, now. Isn't he considerate?_

"You can let me go home," I mutter hopefully, not even joking.

"Unfortunately I'm unable to do that. Is there anything else?"

I clench my teeth, forcing my eyes away. "Nope, nothing else you can do then."

"Are you upset?" King Eric asks, as if he can't tell.

"Yes, I'm upset," I say bluntly. "I'm very, very upset. I'm missing my home and everything about it. I'm missing the comforts of my home, and my Grandmother's presence, and even my annoying brothers'. So, yes, you could say that I'm definitely upset."

"Can I do something for you? Something that might... ease you?"

"Why would you even give a shit, really?"

He sighs loudly and I know it's probably because I've pushed his temper. But astonishingly he doesn't raise his voice at me, or do anything unpleasant.

No, he does something that completely takes me by surprise: Near the bed on a little polished table is a turntable record player. He comes straight over to it, presses it on, and then a record disk starts turning. Then he gently puts the needle in place on the record, and it fizzles to life.

"Will you do me the honour of dancing with me, Sookie Stackhouse?" he asks, stunning me.

I know I should deny, because deep down inside I don't want to be anywhere close to him and I just don't feel in the mood. But once the record starts playing and with the way he is peering deeply into my eyes, waiting for my answer, I find it nearly hard to resist. I'm in a depressed mood and in need of something to liven me up. Dancing always seemed to work plenty, when I was home.

The instance the music crackles to life through the speakers, I recognize it: It's Etta James's 'At Last'. It's a bittersweet song for me to hear. My Grandmother has always been crazy about this song. It only makes me long for home, and I tell him as much:

"Oh god," I laugh weakly, feeling my throat tighten again. "My Grandmother has always loved this song. She has always played it a lot at home, especially when she's cleaning the house. She says it reminds her of my Grandfather Earl."

He turns to look at me, his hands hanging over the needle. "Should I put something else on instead?"

Oddly enough I find I don't want him to, no matter how much it pierces my chest with both longing and sadness. I spring to my feet eagerly. "No, don't. I like this song."

_'At last... My love has come along... My lonely days are over...And life is like a song...'_

He steps closer to me and draws me in gently to him, until my body is only inches from his. I feel the lower half of my body in his satin robe brush up against him, but it doesn't feel as awkward to me as it probably should.

I've never had a dancing partner before, but I have always loved to dance. But dancing this way is a style I haven't done before. He places one hand gently on my shoulder, takes my other hand in his, and I do the same, in placing my left hand atop his shoulder-blade. I can feel the strength of him, simply just by resting my hand on his shoulder; The hard muscles under the fabric of his shirt, and the way he grips my hand firmly in his.

He moves with amazing fluidity and grace, swaying me in a circle around the room. A few times I tread on his polished black shoes with my bare toes, but he doesn't seem to mind. Much to my dismay, I find I quite enjoy dancing with him, especially to Etta James's gorgeous voice. I know I should feel anything _but_ comfortable dancing with him, but it seems to be working wonders in distracting me from what is really going on. I let my eyes hold his for a moment, realizing they are truly lovely. He almost has little green specks to those blue eyes, I can't help noticing. Most of all, I can't help but be self-consciously aware that he looks at nothing but my face a little tenderly, and a little curiously; Like everything else in the room doesn't exist, and like he wants to memorize every part of it. It's a little overwhelming.

I look away from his eyes, focusing on his forehead instead. It helps some.

"You're a real good dancer," I tell him, just to lessen my nerves mostly.

"I have had _many_ years of practise."

"I bet you have, being as old as you apparently are."

It's obvious that something in me saying that amuses him. He stills slightly from his swaying. "Does it disturb you, just how old I am?"

"I don't know," I say hesitantly, raising my voice over the music. "I just find it... funny."

He raises his fair eyebrows at me. "Funny?"

"Well, yeah," I admit unreservedly. "I mean in an odd way. Do you think the world has changed a lot?"

"Since I was last a human? Definitely."

I can't deny it's somewhat interesting learning how he feels about the world, his perspective. I can't even imagine how it must be for him.

"I think now it has all become disconnected," he explains thoughtfully. "All these new technological inventions; such as the internet and telephones. No one really talks anymore. No one really connects on a fundamental level."

"Do you know how to use the internet or the telephone?"

"Of course I do," he says, sounding surprised by my asking. "It's all about adapting to the times, although... it _is_ confusing."

"How is it that you guys can bite with your fangs and feed off our blood? Can't we turn immortal that way?"

"No, it isn't that easy."

"Why not? I thought it was something to do with your fangs? A bit like snakes, how they have venom? Don't you guys have venom?"

"We don't."

"Then how does one turn into a vampire?"

"Basically what happens is that you are drained entirely of your blood, at one sitting, to the point of your death. Then we transfer our blood back into your body, and then a change occurs. You will be laid to rest, and once you rise again, then will you be fully immortal. It isn't about venom at all."

He talks about it so casually, like it's so simple and straightforward. It makes me queasy and cold inside. It just sounds plain painful and gruesome. "It sounds like a pretty excruciating and terrifying process then?"

"As I said before, Sookie, any suffering is beyond my recollection."

"I hear that is what happens during childbirth? You forget all about how much pain you were in, going into labour. It becomes indescribable; You can't correctly tell somebody and explain how it felt, as it happened. You can't even begin to put it into words. Do you think that's why? Your mind is just programmed to forget about the intense agony it felt like?"

"I don't know, but that's an intriguing way to look at it."

The song, being two and a half minutes long, stops and restarts all over again, but neither one of us seems to mind. I guess we are too engrossed in talking to really hear it.

"You don't remember feeling frightened at all?" I ask doubtfully.

"The truth, Sookie, is that I was already on the brink of dying when Godric chose to change me. It was nothing more than an act of mercy, of goodwill. I was not prepared to give up life. Living was something I held dear above anything."

"And you had no qualms about being sentenced to an endless life?"

"He gave me a godly gift, when he made the decision to change me. To be alive is nothing but beauty."

"Even although those you loved- your true family died and you had to go on without them?"

"It was a small price to pay. Besides, my family was already dead."

"So your family already passed. You didn't have to experience watching them suffer and then feel upset about it years down along the line," I surmise confidently.

"No, I wouldn't say that is accurate. I witnessed my families death with my own eyes; My father, my mother, and my young sister. Even to this day, I still feel their loss and replay it over and over in my head to the point where it tortures me. Even though they were gone and I had witnessed their murder brutally with my own pair of eyes, I still held faith that life was worth living despite it all."

"I guess I'm just really not like you, then. I just don't want to outlive anybody."

"You'll come to see differently."

"I'm not so sure I could," I admit tentatively. "And _even_ _if_ I could, I don't think I'd want to."

Something tells me he would like for nothing more than to try convincing me over to his side on this topic, but fortunately for me, he doesn't try. His lips press together in a tight line and he gives me a curt nod in sympathy. "On a less morbid note," he begins meaningfully, "Tell me about your human life. How do you spend it?"

It takes me a moment to get my brain back into gear by the abrupt subject change. I can't pretend I'm not thankful for it, though; He _was_ right. Things _were_ getting a bit too morbid for a second there. "There really isn't much of interest to tell. I live like practically everybody else does."

"Believe it or not, I find myself interested, no matter how mundane you believe it is yourself."

"Well, I work at Merlotte's."

King Eric's face crumples in confusion. "What is Merlotte's?" he asks slowly.

I find myself having to stifle down a laugh. "Well, it's a bar where we serve alcohol and food," I answer, putting it simple for him. "I'm a waitress, which means I go around serving people. I have a notepad and pencil that I carry around with me, writing down orders in. Then I go up to the kitchen or the bar and relay the order to whoever's working, and they get started on it." I sigh loudly. "Then once that's all done, I take the order back out to whoever the customer is that's ordered it."

"And this is what you do? You waitress at this Merlotte's?"

"Yep, that's pretty much it. My shifts are varied, so I either work during the early mornings or the early evenings. Sometimes I start in the afternoons, too."

"And what do you do when you aren't waitressing?"

"Well, I spend the day- or night, whichever it may be- with my Grandmother."

"And what do you do then?" He's obviously really looking for in-depth details of my day-to-day life.

"Sometimes I help Gran with cooking or cleaning around the house, if she needs it. Or sometimes I do the washing and hang that out on the line. It's very boring stuff, like I told you. It's mainly just the usual stuff, nothing exciting or ground-breaking. If you really care to know, sometimes I even mow the lawn or hose down the garden. Sometimes I like sitting in my lounge chaise out front or sunbathe on a towel in the yard."

"You do not have someone who assists with manual labour?" he asks, sounding strangely outraged.

"No, why would I? Despite what you may believe, I'm a highly competent young woman. I'm perfectly capable of doing manual labour. Most do it themselves. Oh, and sometimes I read or watch the television. A lot of times I hang out with my best friend, Tara."

His look at me suddenly turns appraising. He makes an odd grunting noise at me. "Well, you do a lot, don't you?"

"I guess I do like to keep myself busy, but it's really no different from what anybody else does."

"And what about men?" he demands.

"Men?" I repeat, a little stumped.

"Yes, men. Where do any men fit in with all of this?" I might be mistaken, but I think he is almost angling for me to declare my virgin-status.

"The only important man in my life is pretty much just my older brother, Jason. But if you're really asking whether I'm taken or not, I don't have any man in my life. I'm not seeing anybody."

"Why hasn't there been any significant men in your life?"

It's really hard to explain, without ending up spilling the beans over my telepathy gift. But I try my best. "Well, I guess... I've never found the right person for me."

"Ah. So it is that same sentimental belief then of finding the right male to settle down with?"

It isn't exactly the truth, but it isn't exactly a lie, either. I nod. "Pretty much, yeah. I find it... hard to get involved with someone. I guess you could say I have... intimacy issues."

"How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-years-old."

"You are a twenty-year-old with intimacy issues?" His voice is filled with disbelief.

"I guess I am," I reply uncomfortably. I really wish we could talk about something else, other than my life and my lack of dating due to the hardships I've had to face over my mind-reading ability. "What about yourself?" I ask, making my voice intentionally brighter. "How do you live your life, as King of Louisiana?"

"Duller than how you assume your life is lived," he says unenthusiastically. "I rise from my coffin immediately after sundown, and I mainly deal with boring political shit. I'm constantly traveling to different States. I attend conferences, where we deliberately push our differences aside and mingle. There isn't much excitement, just the same-old tedious bullshit week after week."

"You're right," I agree. "It doesn't seem all fun and games to be King at all. "

"And it isn't," he agrees with me, swaying again. I deliberately make myself move, following his lead. "You start to realize just how ridiculous this is. Even this colossal house is a constant reminder of how ostentatious this is. It's utter bullshit."

"I never thought I'd hear a King actually come out and say that about their lifestyle. I thought you'd be a little more... smug?"

"Smug over something I never wanted in the first place?" As if it's the most normal thing in the world to suddenly be doing without my permission, he raises his hand from my shoulder to take a lock of my hair between his fingers, rubbing it absently between his thumb and forefinger as if luxuriating in the feel. I try not to shiver, but fail as soon as I begin. He doesn't seem to notice, though. "It all comes down to age, how we are selected and crowned. Nothing more, but age."

"Didn't you want to be King?" I ask, struggling to ignore what his fingers are doing with my hair.

He smiles slightly at that and I only realize as he does it that his fangs are actually out. My stomach lurches. "Honestly? No, I didn't," he admits after a moment. "I have never been interested in politics, but it doesn't matter whether we want the title or not. It isn't our right to decline or have a say in the matter." He seems almost fascinated by the texture of my hair, and I can just tell he is almost tempted to bend down and sniff it, but he doesn't. Instead, he stares at it fixedly, like hair is nothing he has ever seen before. It's disarming. "I could only accept the title and the duties that came along with such a position." Finally losing interest in my hair, he presses his hand back down on my shoulder and raises his eyes to meet mine again. "I have never been one to run from my obligations. I was chosen as King of Louisiana and I had no choice but to accept." He looks suddenly sorry he said that. "Not that it doesn't come without its advantages, I admit. I should only be grateful for the opportunity."

"But you're not?" I guess. It's obvious that he isn't.

_'I found a dream, that I could speak to... A dream that I can call my own... I found a thrill to press my cheek to... A thrill that I have never known..._'

Startling me, he bends down and lays his cool cheek against mine. The fair amount of stubble on him prickles me, and I can smell every inch of him: The smell of vampire and blood maybe. He says in my ear quietly, "Between you and me; I'm not." Then he moves back and meets my eyes again bleakly, letting his hand slip from my shoulder. "I hope you are feeling better. Good night, Sookie," he says with finality, stepping away from me.

_'For you are mine, at last...'_

Abruptly he turns the record player off; A sudden silence fills the room again. Then without so much as sending another glance my way he leaves the room, leaving me staring after his retreating form in astonishment.

He sure is a tricky vampire to figure out.

**I hope you enjoyed this one? How are you feeling about this portrayal of both Eric and Sookie? Hoping Eric is slowly coming out of his creepiness. I would love to know.**


	6. An Attempt at Freedom

**I own nothing to do with True Blood. I am just a huge fan.**

**I want to thank you all so much. I'm so surprised and shocked by the response to this story, I never anticipated this happening at all! Thank you all so much for every kind review, and the alerts I have received. I still can't get over it, I did not think anyone would like and be interested in this story that much! And over 100 reviews was not something I expected either, so that is rather scary and amazing, thank you.**

**It means a lot to me! I am hoping you enjoy this chapter, and that it isn't so bad! Thank you so much! English is not my first language as you can probably tell, but my older sister helps correct anything for me. So any errors or mistakes made are of my own fault and I am sorry. **

* * *

_**Chapter Six**_

Finally with some peace and quiet allocated to myself, I permit myself to do what I need best:

Have a good old sobbing session.

Since no one is around anymore- no King, or watchful eyes- I figure I'm safe enough to do it without anyone deeming me a weakling. I let myself get into such a bad state, with tears rolling away down my cheeks and my eyelids feeling all puffy... only to my surprise I belatedly realize it isn't as therapeutic as I first thought it would be.

There's no relief in the tears I shed, because it only makes me feel guilty. I'm being a bit too sorry for myself. Dancing with the King has eased my nerves a bit, to the point where I don't feel I have it as bad as anyone else does. The King Eric Northman wasn't what I was expecting in the slightest: He isn't mean, and he most definitely isn't too bad. He has treated me decently, and assured me he wouldn't do anything to make me feel too uncomfortable. He seems almost keen on winning my trust.

In all things considered, it doesn't seem too much of a bad deal to be stuck with. It could be plenty worse than how it is so far. I'm not being treated roughly or unfairly; I'm allowed to do whatever I please, wear whatever I please, eat whatever I please. I'm not chained up somewhere in the house. I'm not being denied of anything. So far, there just doesn't seem all that much to cry about.

Yet I almost feel as if I'm betraying everybody else, in a sense, if I don't grieve. I think of my Grandmother and know without a doubt that she's probably sitting at home, right now, curled up on her sofa chair by the television, exhausted from crying over the fact that she's probably never going to be having me in her house ever again. She'll be worried sick about me, wondering how they are treating me here and how me and the King of Louisiana are getting along, and fretting about how he is like. And then, there's my brother Jason. I know he'll be angry to learn of what has happened to me. He has never been too fond of vampires and the way they treated humankind. I know how he is: I once overheard him in conversation with a group of his friends that he works with. He would fantasize about killing vampires, making them pay for all the wrongs they've done. Now that I'm gone and stuck here, wouldn't this only give him more incentive to feel hatred towards the vampire kind?

But it hasn't been too bad here, so far. There is only this constant aching in my heart for home.

And, as it turned out, judging by the conversations I had with King Eric, being King was nothing he wanted, either. Maybe he is stuck here as much as I am, with having no choice or say in anything that he wanted? He wasn't so bad. He was interesting to talk to, and the more time spent with him I didn't feel so nervous. I almost had enjoyed dancing with him and talking. It doesn't mean I should feel that way, though, especially when he intends to take my life away from me.

My thoughts are interrupted when someone makes a noise outside the door. Hastily, I wipe my tears from my face, expecting to see the King making his return. Only, much to my relief, it isn't him. It's somebody else completely.

My visitor is a woman in her early or late thirties, dressed in a black midriff top and mini shorts with no slippers or shoes on her feet to keep them covered. Her slim belly and substantially sized cleavage is on display, and her ragged blond hair is cut into a shoulder length bob. I don't think I have ever seen a woman wear so much make-up before in my entire life; It's layers thick, and she even has jet-black eyeliner rimmed around her eyes. She looks as if she's been having a wonderful time spent in the King's quarters, even if she is acting as somewhat of a maid to me.

"Hey darling," she pipes up at me, in a ridiculously cheerful voice. "The King suggested I come in and introduce myself to you! He said you looked pretty sad, and that you might benefit from some girl-on-girl time."

How silly, because _of course_ I'm unhappy. It's like she is completely oblivious to the fact.

With a sympathetic smile for me, she places a rattling tray with a mug of what looks like steaming hot chocolate on the bed for me. "I know hot chocolate does wonders for a girl's mood," she goes on fondly. "Thought it might make you feel better."

What would make me really feel better, I know, is seeing my family and getting away from this horrendously large place. But instead, I force on a thankful smile. "Thanks a bunch," I say, making my voice extra sweet. "Hot chocolate is exactly what I'm needing."

I think she catches on to my sarcasm, because she grimaces. "Don't be such a whiner," she says, as kindly as she's able to. "It isn't all that bad, is it? I've been employed here for three days now and I can't even begin to regret my decision!"

Suddenly things don't feel so strange when I listen into her thoughts. It has been quiet for so long in this house, that it's almost a blessing to be able to use my gift again, just like I'm used to doing at home. I find out this woman is very simple-minded in the way her brain works, but she's also very family orientated.

She's got a little girl starting first grade. She was conceived in a crummy Ford pick-up truck when she had a fling with a man who worked in construction. Apparently he wasn't too keen on paying child support, so the woman was forced to look for a job with a reasonable income. As it turned out, the job of her dreams was right here, working for the King of Louisiana, who promised to not only treat her well in giving her a room here and a place to stay, rent free. But he also promised to give her a lot of money for her services; Money that she can take care of her little girl with.

I can hear it in her thoughts.

"You've got a little girl?" I ask, with interest.

"I do," she whispers, sounding surprised by my knowing. "How did you know that? How freaky!"

"I just made a lucky guess," I lie. It seems convincing of me enough, because she doesn't press me further for anymore information.

"Want to see a picture of her?" The woman asks me eagerly; Her fingers fumbling around in the pockets of her shorts. "She's got the cutest little face, but she's a total ungrateful brat!" Finally finding the photograph from in her pocket, she unfolds it and hands it to me. The photo is a little crinkled and hard to look at, but it's sweet nonetheless. In it is a girl, about four or five years old, wearing pink pyjamas with little bunnies on them. "That's my baby girl, Debbie-Anne. Isn't she the cutest?"

"Oh, she's very cute," I agree.

She laughs shakily. "But like I said, she's a total brat. Her Dad's an asshole. He never really wants anything to do with her, unless I force him into it." Reaching over, I hand the photo back to her, and she studies it herself. "She's mostly got her Dad's face, makes me want to punch her sometimes..." Sighing sadly, she folds it up and slips it back into the pocket of her shorts briskly. She looks me over curiously. "You brought any pictures of your family? You got any kids?"

"No, I don't have any kids. And I didn't think of bringing any pictures along with me of my family. It all happened so quickly that I just didn't have the time."

She stares at me, so I look away. I've always hated people staring.

"You've been chosen, huh?"

"Yep," I say curtly.

"You don't sound real happy about that," she observes, a little shakily.

"I'm not," I admit quietly. "I don't even really know what I'm supposed to be doing here."

"Sure, you don't," she says in disbelief. "You don't look that dumb. Most know why they're here. Sooner or later, you're going to be one of them. Soon you'll be more like them, than the rest of us. But as for right now, you're pretty much the same as us. You're here to give the King what he needs, and that's blood, like them donors he has here. Then soon, you'll be needing donors yourself and..." She goes on and on, prattling on dismally about stuff I pretty much already know about. There's really no point to it: I already know why I'm stuck here, and I already know what's in the cards for me. It's why I'm feeling so depressed. I don't need to hear about it, when I already know myself. It's old news to me. I try to tune out her words as much as I possibly can. But finally, it gets to me. Finally I just can't stand to listen anymore.

"All right, that's enough," I snap at her. She shuts up immediately and stares at me, shocked. Suddenly I'm feeling bad by the hurt look on her face. "I already know what's planned for me. So please, just don't bother telling me what I already know!"

"Fine, then," she huffs, on the defensive herself. "I was just making conversation!"

"Then can't we talk about something else?"

"Sorry," she mutters under her breath resignedly. "I didn't know it would get you so mad."

The entire room seems suddenly stifling with her in it, so I get to my feet and cross over towards the window, squinting outside. The sun is gradually starting to rise, which means all the vampires in the house will be getting ready to call it the quits, until night comes again. It leaves me wildly comforted. I need to be alone; That's what I need most. I need to be alone from every single person in this house. I need time to think. I hear the woman's bare feet as she shuffles around the room, and already, I regret my harsh outburst at her. I shouldn't be so mean, and usually, I'm not. She's hardly to blame for any of this, but her talking about it ticked me off in a severe way. Still, it's hardly her fault. She didn't do anything to me personally herself. I should apologize.

"I'm sorry," I tell her glumly, without looking at her. "I'm just feeling depressed and helpless, I guess. I don't want to be stuck here at all."

"Like I said, I'm real sorry too. I was just hoping for some conversation. Next time I'll know not to talk about it. I can understand how you're feeling, much as I'm able to."

Her words completely take me by surprise. I'm not expecting it at all. But I can't deny it makes things a lot easier to deal with. Plus, she seems as if she means it.

"I wish there was somehow some way that I could help you, but I know I won't be much good help..." She trails off miserably.

Maybe she thinks she can't help me, but I know of something she could help me with. She has been here a few days longer than I have, hasn't she? Surely she would have some hindsight into the way things work around here.

Sucking in a deep breath, I force myself to turn back and look at her. I find she has already collected up the trays of food, probably so she can throw out all the food that hasn't been eaten and prepare me some new ones for later. I catch a quick glimpse of her neck. Evidently being a blood-donor to these guys isn't part of her job description: She doesn't have any gruesome bites decorating her neck whatsoever. It makes me feel slightly relieved that I'm not the only one in the King's royal court that isn't keen to have fangs piercing her neck and being slurped at, like a milkshake. Or a milking machine for the highly sought after consumption of our blood. Since there isn't any viable substitutes for human blood and vampires are dominating the population, I suppose it's the only way they can live. But it also means that we have to suffer.

"What's your name?" I ask her cautiously, realizing we haven't exactly been introduced yet.

"Ginger," she says, with some happiness. "And you're Sookie Stackhouse. The King filled me in."

"Well, Ginger," I start gently, trying to make my voice level and patient with her, "I think there might be some way that you could help me."

Her face brightens at that. She looks as if she would want nothing more than to be helpful to me. "Yes, what is it?" she asks eagerly.

"Look, if you could just help me find a way to get out of here-" I begin desperately.

She cuts me off with a short laugh nasally. The sound doesn't seem to suit her looks. "Honey, there isn't any way of getting out of here," she says gently. "And besides, all things considered, why would you want to? This place is better than what's going on out there in the real world. At least in here there isn't any real danger. Mr. Northman makes sure of that. Why would you ever want to leave this place?"

I can think of many valid reasons why. "This isn't my true home," I tell her. "I live in Bon Temps, with my family. I've got a Grandmother and an older brother at home. I've only been here for, like, a couple of hours and already I'm going crazy without them!"

"Darling, most of us have families at home," she tells me sympathetically. "Myself included. It's like with that picture I showed you: I got a child who lives with her asshole father, and she's just starting her first year of school. Wouldn't I prefer to be at home myself, with her? Of course I would! But we've all got our own sacrifices to make, and leaving this place isn't as easy as you're probably thinking..."

"Why isn't it easy?" I demand anxiously, fighting the impulse to cross my arms over my chest. "I know the King has got his own guards, but he told me himself that most of them are vampires! They can't get out during the day!"

"And have you seen how high the walls and gates are around this place?"

"Of course, I have," I admit, frustrated. "They look real high. But surely it wouldn't be that hard to get out, would it? I mean, if the guards have to sleep during the day and stay out of the sunlight, then surely it's easy to escape, right?"

"You're not thinking the whole thing through," she says, shaking her head. "There mightn't be guards during the daylight hours, but honey, they still got motion detectors installed around the yard that sets off the sprinkler system. You won't reach as far as the middle of the yard without them going off, and getting yourself all soaked. Have you ever tried running on slippery grass? You'll just fall over and get all muddy!"

"Muds the least of my worries, believe me," I tell her urgently. "I don't care about getting wet and dirty, or falling over on the grass. Not when I need to get back home!"

Her face sobers at my words grimly, to the point where she looks so much older than she probably really is. I bet the make-up caked on her isn't helping any. "Honey, even then, you don't think these guy's are smart enough to take their security seriously? I heard from one of the girl's working here as a donor that they got dogs employed around the yard. You'd be nothing but a fool to try win a race against a dog on slippery grass, honey! You'll only end up getting yourself hurt!"

"I don't care," I say stubbornly. "All I know is that I've just got to get out of here, otherwise I won't be able to see my family ever again!"

"And have you tried asking Mr. Northman if it's alright to have your family over for visits?" she asks, like it's that simple. Just as I open my mouth, fired and ready to protest, she cuts me off hastily: "Honey, he let's me bring my girl over here sometimes, just on one condition. I'm allowed to have her over so long as it's during the daylight hours and that I keep my eyes on her and make sure she don't stray where she doesn't belong!"

"Oh, come on," I laugh out loud. "Yeah, right! As if he would agree to let my family come over!"

She stares at me blankly through her flat brown eyes. My point is obviously sailing straight past her brain. "Well, why wouldn't he agree to that?" she asks confusedly. "He's allowed most of us in here to see our family, so long as we keep eye on them and make sure they leave before nightfall comes. He doesn't really seem to mind. He seems more so concerned about the safety of them than anything else."

I turn back to look outside the window again. The early morning sun has risen higher, which means only one thing: All the vampire guards in this house would be retreating safely, either under ground or wherever else they go to whenever the sun comes up. I estimate the length of the yard, the gates. Ginger was right, at least: The gates look very high up, about five or six feet. I've always been a fairly decent climber, but I do have to take Ginger's words into consideration. She said there is a sprinkler system that automatically sets on, when motion is detected around the yard. She also said there are dogs. I know dogs are faster sprinters than humans, especially being four-footed the way they are. But you can always dodge and weave out of their way, can't you?

I bring my eyes down to the robe I'm wearing. I need to make some alterations to my clothes; I need to put on some undergarments, just in case. The robe is too big in the sleeve area, but at least it doesn't reach my feet. I can run easier on wet grass if it doesn't get snagged on anything.

There's also the issue on Ginger's safety: What if she gets into trouble, if I do so happen to get caught trying to break out of the prison-like grounds of the King's palace? What happens if they blame her, deem her my accomplice?

The easiest solution I can come up with is to lie, to create a diversion for her.

I mightn't know what she is really employed here to do, but I'm guessing it has something to do with catering to my needs for food. If I can distract her and put her out-of-the-way, maybe it'll be easier? Maybe she wouldn't be considered my accomplice then?

Fastening the sash of the robe around my waist and folding the sleeves up to my elbows, I turn to look at her again. "Hey, Ginger," I begin, as politely as I can muster. "Would you mind getting me some breakfast, if that's not too much to ask? I find myself awfully hungry."

It seems she is too used to feeding people, probably because she has a little girl she is used to looking after. Without any suspicion whatsoever, she nods vigorously. "Sure, honey, I would love to. What do you feel like?"

Thinking off the top of my head, I say, "How about some scrambled eggs on toast? My Grandmother always makes me that for breakfast."

"Okay, sure. I'll go get straight into doing that."

Pleased she has something to do to waste the time away, Ginger leaves me without another word. Once I hear her climbing down the steps, I get to work. Hurriedly, I slip back into my underwear and put my bra back on. Then I make sure the robe is tight enough that it won't get in my way, and start climbing slowly down the steps to the front floor of the house. My bare feet help with being as quiet as I possibly can be with moving around. I pause on the last step to listen, craning my neck and using my ears to gauge any movements around the house that I haven't noticed yet.

It seems the coast is clear. All I can hear is that Ginger woman getting to work dutifully, humming a tune to herself. It seems she is the only person being active around the house at this hour of the morning. I think all the King's guards have returned to their safe daytime resting places, the King included in that himself.

_All the better for me then..._

Eight seconds. That's all it takes for me to get quietly to the front door undetected. Easing the door gently open, I step outside, keeping my eyes forward on the yard just in case somebody springs up rudely unannounced.

With my heart hammering in my ears, I judge the distance to the front gates. The gates are a while away, but hopefully I can reach them in time enough. Even then, I've got a massive climbing session ahead of me.

The brightness of the sun at this hour is welcoming and wildly reassuring on me. It means any vampire guards won't have a chance in hell of coming out here in the aim of stopping me. There are no guards at the entrance of the gates. No one is there. It's virtually empty. No humans are in sight along the yard, either. It's only just me out here.

_What a very good thing._

Easing the front door gently closed, I make my move. Rather than climbing down the steps, I lunge and jump down them, giving myself more time to run. Then taking one last inspection of my surroundings and seeing nothing but a clear and easy run ahead of me, I start sprinting on the lawn. My body works with me, and so does the robe. It doesn't get in my feet's way, causing me to slip or topple over on the grass. It allows me a quick and effortless jog.

The ground is a flat, solid stretch of grass. Luckily for me, the King must have somebody who regularly tends to the garden, because the grass isn't long. It isn't too harsh on my feet either; There aren't any sharp rocks or unpleasant things to cut into my feet with.

I'm fast, thanks to the conditions I'm working with. I wasn't the fastest runner in high school, but my limbs and my lungs do their job well. I know I can reach the gates, I just know it, and not anything can stop me or get in my way.

Although I'm expecting it, thanks to Ginger informing me of it, it still hits me by surprise when the sprinkler system sets in just as I'm halfway through the yard. Sprinklers pop up out of the soil and suddenly I'm soaked. Water pushes my hair into my eyes and the ground is less easy to jog in, but I force myself to press on.

I'm just two meters or so away from the big gates when something catches my eye. It's a dog. Probably one of the security dogs Ginger told me about. Only he doesn't look like any normal kind of pet dog: He's bigger, his fur is fluffier and his tail that hangs near his hind-legs is bushier and longer, and he's taller than the average canine. He's also white as snow with strong legs and abnormally orange eyes that gleam in the sunlight all the way from where I am. Though the dog is quite a fair distance away, I can still tell I've captured his attention: He is looking right at me, and his pointed ears lift, as if in alarm.

I know a dog ready to sprint when I see one, and that only pushes me faster...

It growls at me and then I catch it sprinting off towards me.

Suddenly running doesn't seem a very smart idea, but it's a bit too late to turn back now, and the dog is determined to catch me. After the initial shock of the dog wanes off, I push myself into striding faster. I feel my heart pumping in my ears, I feel a funny crawling sensation all over me, and most of all, I feel a terrible sense of dread: I'm almost waiting for the exact moment I feel the dog snatch me up with his teeth painfully, but it's yet to come.

My hands have just closed over the bar of the gate when it happens. Just as I'm raising my ankle, set and ready to start climbing up, I feel a sudden heavy weight on my back and claws cutting into my skin through the back of the robe as the dog jumps up onto it with its paws.

"Get off me," I groan desperately, but the dog doesn't heed to my advice.

Next thing I know, I'm toppling backwards over the dog's body to the wet ground, feeling sludgy mud coating my face and arms. The dog tries to get its cold and wet nose to my cheek, and I bring my arms up, hoping to shield myself from its attack. I'm about to get mauled alive by the dog, and I know it.

"Fucking grrr," the dog says, from a human males throat unpleasantly, and suddenly it dawns onto me that I'm not dealing with a dog anymore, but a man. "Dumb shit. Where do you think you're going, huh?"

I try to get free, but it's no use. The man is using all of his weight to hold me down to the grass, his rough hands pinning me into place in the soil. Working up all my strength, I raise my elbow, enough to hit the side of the man's face roughly. He makes a deep, pained grunting noise through his teeth, and then he manages to reach down, effectively closing his hand over my throat and cutting off my windpipe in the process.

"I mightn't like fangers, but you people never cease to surprise me," he grunts out harshly. "When are you-all going to learn that it's best not to try escaping this place?"

My eyes are starting to water and I can feel nothing but my heart hammering away in my ears as I struggle to breathe. "Please," I choke out weakly. "Let go of my throat! I can't... breathe!"

"Then you stop trying to fight me, you hear?" The man rumbles out in exasperation.

I nod violently, since my voice isn't working so well with him choking me the way he is. Fortunately, he lets me go and the first breath inhaled back into my lungs is heaven. Curling over onto my side, I try to work my lungs into functioning again. While I was somewhat informed of what I might be dealing with, I sure wasn't expecting a dog to turn into a man, only to violently choke me half to death. It takes me a very long time to get over the fear eating away at me.

"You doing alright?" I hear the man ask nervously. Funnily enough, he actually sounds concerned for me. How ridiculous!

"Who are you?" I gasp out, cradling my throat in my hands. I don't think I have ever felt something so painful in my entire life, as getting throttled by somebody. My throat feels achy and tight, and every time I force myself to swallow saliva down it stings.

"Well, who the hell are you? I haven't seen you here ever before!"

"I'm Sookie," I manage quietly. "And you are?"

"Alcide. What kind of girl has the name 'Sookie'?"

Curling my legs into my stomach, I force myself to sit up and pay attention to the man. He isn't... what I'm expecting at all, partly because he isn't wearing a single item of clothing on him. He's big, beefy, and menacing to look at. He's also looking at me closely with nothing else but pure concern on his face, and in his shining light brown eyes. "_I _do," I whisper defensively.

"What you here for?"

"For the King. I was chosen."

His eyes widen and his face reddens and trembles to the point where he looks as if he's about to pass out. "You were chosen by the King? Well, fuck! Why didn't you just say so in the first place?"

"It was hard to talk when you were choking me," I point out stiffly.

Being disturbingly kind and sympathetic to me, he stands and helps me back up onto my feet. I try not to look at anywhere I shouldn't, fail. It isn't every day someone is completely exposed to you; It is hard to know where it's safe to look, and where it isn't.

The man looks distressed when he turns me over with his hand and scrutinizes the back of the robe I'm wearing, and I'm not entirely sure why. Last time I knew, mud didn't kill anyone, did it?

"Oh, god," he groans, combing his tousled dark hair back from his face with a pair of trembling hands. "I'm going to get my nuts ripped off for this."

"For getting me all muddy?" I ask, surprised. "It's not a big deal."

"Well, if I had known who you were in the first place, it never would have gotten this far. It wasn't my fault, and he expects me to do this. It wasn't my fault I wasn't informed correctly in the first place. "

"No one is saying anything is your fault," I tell him, hoping to end whatever panic attack it seems he is experiencing. It doesn't seem to help him any, though. He just goes on and on.

"I'm meant to make sure no one gets out," he continues to himself mostly, I think. "I'm meant to guard the perimeters and fix up the gardens. It's not my problem."

"You're working for the King?" I ask him curiously. "Or are you doing this out of your own free will?"

That question seems to work wonders in distracting him from stressing out. He turns to look at me with his eyebrows raised. "I owed the King and we had to come to some arrangement. I guess he thought I'd make a good security dog in patrolling the grounds. It's my duty to make sure no one comes in or out without permission."

I feel myself shudder all over. He was a wild dog before; Some big canine, one better than domesticated dogs you have inside your home. But how did he be a dog, and then turn into a man so quickly in the next instance? Even trying to listen into his thoughts with my gift offers me no insight or useful answers. His thoughts are hard to decode: Not as easy as it was with the Ginger woman. I haven't experienced anything like this before. Usually most are easy enough to read.

"What are you?" I ask, hardly caring about being polite. "You were some type of dog, and then just as suddenly, you're a-"

"Werewolf," he cuts in brightly. "I'm a werewolf." I must look shocked, because he adds quickly: "Don't be so surprised. It isn't unusual for fangers of his status to use us for security purposes. Most vampires of the States do. It's degrading, but what else are we supposed to do about that?"

"I never even knew werewolves existed," I confess uneasily. "No less that you were being used as guard dogs."

"Well, now you do," he says.

My stomach sinks, as the undeniable truth hits me: I can't escape, Ginger was right. It is next to impossible, what with all these barriers in my way. But maybe I can use this man's goodness to my advantage? "I'm needing some help in getting out of here," I tell him. "I need to get out of here. I need to see my family. Is there any way that you could let me go?"

"No such luck," he says with little regret. "If I let you go, I'm fucked. You want to get me into trouble and have my nutsack cut off?"

"But if you could let me go, maybe for an hour or two?" I goad him eagerly. "Just enough time for me to talk to my Grandmother? I could come right back, straight before sundown, and no one will ever find out about it? If you could just let me do that, then _I promise_ I'll-"

"Can't," he says. "I'm sorry, but I can't. There's no such thing as secrets around here. If I let you out, you can bet someone will find out, sooner or later. And then when they do, I'll get accused for slacking off and get into trouble."

"I wouldn't tell anyone that you did, I swear!"

He sighs loudly. "Well, it don't really matter if you don't end up dobbing me in," he says, aghast. "I mean it when I say there isn't any secrets around here. There's no way of going behind anyone's back in here, 'cause people find out sooner or later! I can't risk it!"

"But I'll do_ anything_, I swear! If they find out, _I'll swear_ to them it wasn't you! I _won't_ dob you in!"

"Don't be a fucking idiot," he says, raising his voice at me. "There isn't any way out of here, alright? Why don't you just get used to it, and thank your lucky stars already?"

"Thank my lucky stars?" I repeat, feeling my temper flare. It takes all I have not to raise my voice at him. "_Thank_ my lucky stars _for what_? What's _so lucky_ about the position I'm in here?"

Startling me, he growls underneath his breath. Then he raises a hand and presses his warm fingers to the side of my neck. "You haven't been bitten yet, and you're not being locked inside the house for starters! You can do a lot worse than what you're dealing with!"

His harshly spoken words are slowly sinking in, and my anger is fading. Still, I can't see anything good about any of this. "So, all that you've just said might be true. I haven't been bitten yet without my will, and I'm not being forced to stay inside! But sooner or later he intends to turn me into a vampire, and_ I_, at least, feel as if I _have the right_ to see my family before it happens!"

"Then why are you out here telling me about all this?" he asks, flicking his hand away from me. "Why don't you ask King Northman instead of standing out here talking me to about it? _I_ don't make the rules here, _alright_? Why don't you just _go inside_ and _tell it_ to _him_?"

"Oh, please. He wouldn't listen to me. So what's the point?"

"He'll listen to you more than he'll listen to anybody else," he says gruffly, storming off into the opposite direction across the yard, ignoring the pattering of water coming from the sprinkler system. I tear my eyes away from his jiggling backside, my temper thoroughly gone.

His words have certainly given me a lot of food for thought. What am I doing, really? He's right. The only person I can ask and make them let me see my family is the King himself, not anybody else. And the man is also right; In things not being so bad, for the time being.

The only person I can ask is the King. I guess I just feel more comfortable avoiding him. Asking things of him would only be giving him more power over me: Power I don't particularly want him to feel he has. But this Alcide guy is right. Later tonight, once sundown comes, I'll have to ask.

**Hope this one was okay? Thanks so much for being so lovely and for encouraging me! I cannot believe how nice you all are, so thank you for being so wonderful!**


	7. A Pissant

_**Hello all.**_

_**I want to thank you all so much for being so kind, it flatters me and surprises me so much. I hope I haven't let you down with this one. As usual, I'm so nervous, so please be gentle on me. Thank you! **_

_**Chapter Seven**_

My Grandmother once told me the hardest lesson and also, the most character-building one in life, was how to learn when to accept defeat. I'd say this is one of those times. Accepting defeat was not something I want to do: Although the odds are most definitely not in my favour and there is so many obstacles in my way, I still want to find a way of escaping, even if it is perhaps beyond sense.

I also shared conversation with Alcide outside, who apparently is employed as something closely resembling a security wolf to keep any unwanted escapees stuck inside the King's living quarters and any unwanted visitors out. Alcide the Werewolf told me quite plainly that escaping isn't something you can do around here so, beyond any rhyme or reason, here I was. If it hadn't been for him stopping me, I would have been all the way back into Bon Temps by now, rejoicing in the company of my Grandmother.

Only life never works out the way you want it to, apparently.

My Grandmother's ancient house looks like a hut in comparison to the King's headquarters, but its where I consider true home to be. It used to sicken me to my core how people could live like this. Even hearing about famous celebrities buying expensive million dollar mansions used to disgust me. Surely, there were plenty of other things you could put good use of your money to? What ever happened to donating to charaties and living a modest, comfortable life in a small-town home?

Only just thinking about such things makes me feel stressed out, so I force my limbs to move back towards the opening of the mansion. My feet are completely against heading back into the King's house, but I coerce them to move with some effort. I try to wonder what the time is to distract myself. Since I don't have my wrist watch on me, it's hard to really know. But I'm guessing it is around nine o'clock or ten in the morning, considering how high the sun is getting. Usually at this hour I would have already been ready for work. I would just be arriving in my uniform, and I would be hanging out in the staff locker room, talking to everybody about silly things. Tara and I would be gossiping, and her cousin, Lafayette, would only just be arriving. It's hard not to miss how life was, before all of this. But I don't really have any choice but to suck it up.

The instance I get inside, I find Ginger waiting for me, wearing a pink apron with cupcakes all over it. She looks me over pitifully, and I know it's because of the terrible state I'm in, with my hair dripping wet and the streaks of mud on the robe the King gave me to wear last night. I'm also fairly certain there's a gash on the back of the robe from Alcide's claws when he was a wolf, but hopefully it isn't too obvious just what I've been up to.

"Goodness, what happened to you?" she asks in shock.

I look down at the robe myself. It's even worser than I imagined; My feet are dirty, and I've got mud and grass stains all over the robe. I start to regret my impulsive decision of trying to make a run for it more and more as the seconds go by. Yes, it was stupid of me and incredibly rash, but I wasn't thinking everything completely through and when I'm upset and pissed off I find it hard to think properly. I haven't slept a wink in this place, and functioning on hardly any hours of sleep doesn't make for a clear-thinking brain. Sue me for it.

Besides I'm missing home like hell. I haven't ever been away from home before, at least not willingly for too long. It's scaring the crap out of me; the idea that I mightn't get to see my family ever again. I thought that escaping might have been a good thing to try- for a moment there. Now, the impulsive decision has come back to bite me in the behind. Literally.

_Oh, shit. What have I done?_

If the King finds out about this then... I shudder. Who knows what he will do when he hears of it? He'll probably rip more heads off of bodies, because he's so angry. It's the last thing I want to happen; To have more casualties in his house and being the cause for it. I don't want it to happen at all.

"I'm sorry," I can only manage to Ginger quietly. "I... I just wanted to see the yard, that's all. I guess I should have listened to you better. I didn't realize I would set the sprinklers on just by walking around the yard."

"Well, honey, that's why you don't go too far near the gates. The sprinklers always go off that way. It's meant to be a repellent in a way," she says, and I can tell she believes me. God bless her. "I got your breakfast ready if you're still wanting it?"

I nod slowly, abstracted.

Forcing myself to eat anything is a real difficulty. Ginger has her own plate of scrambled eggs as well, but she eats hers without any trouble and she polishes the plate up in a few minutes. I guess being in this house makes a human extra hungry. We make trivial conversation about the weather, and she even tells me more about her cute little daughter. It's nice to have someone to talk to who is human, even if we don't have much in common.

"So, they employ werewolves to watch out for them during the day?" I ask her, while still battling through my food.

"Of course, they do! The vampires would fry otherwise!"

"He seems nice."

She stares at me blankly.

"You know who I'm talking about."

It takes her half a minute to get it. "Oh, Alcide? Yeah, he's a real nice fellow. He's always working around the grounds. He seems decent." Gathering up our plates, she heads towards the sink. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. The good Doctor is visiting today to see you."

I stare at the back of her apron with narrowed eyes. "The good Doctor? Why do I need to see a doctor for? I'm not sick or anything, far as I know..."

"It has nothing to do with illnesses, silly," she says. "She does this every time a person comes to live in the King's house. It isn't just you, so don't worry."

"What do they want with me? What are they going to do?" Although Ginger tells me not to worry, I can't help it. I have never liked doctors, but I don't think anybody ever does, no matter how kind they are to you.

"She's a real nice lady," she assures me. "She'll just give you a regular check-up and make sure everything is right as rain. She did that for me as well, when I got here. I think it's like... the way the King likes things to be done."

"Yes, the King. What are your thoughts on him?" It's always good to get a second opinion. As for myself, I honestly didn't know how to feel about him.

"My first thought was that he's real generous with money," she says, with a short laugh. "I don't think he's too bad. I think he's nice for a vamp, especially with the way he's so accommodating. And, boy; is he old or what?"

I can't help laughing along with her. "Yeah, he is apparently over a thousand years old."

"You wouldn't believe it at first, huh?"

"He doesn't look it, that's for sure. But is he... mean? Does he treat the other humans... decently around here?"

"Hmmm, I don't know about that. I've only been here three days, really. I mean, _you_ ought to know more than me, especially being in the position that you're in. Do you think he's nice?"

I'm silent for a moment, wondering what I think of King Eric of Louisiana myself. Honestly, I don't know how I'm feeling. I have no general conclusion made up on how he is at the moment. "I think he's... all right," I admit cautiously."I guess, with what little time I've spent with him so far, he's very respectful. He seems really eager on making me feel at home here."

"Then that's a good thing, isn't it?"

"I don't know," I say uncertainly, after a moment. "I'm just not so sure what to think. After I was chosen and I was brought back here, I... I witnessed him tear off one of his vampire guards heads with his bare hands himself. Seeing something like that doesn't exactly leave a good impression on anybody."

"Thank God I didn't have to be there to see that then," Ginger says, with an uneasy laugh. "I would have screamed my fucking ass off!"

"I was that close to screaming," I confess to her. "But I guess the shock and fear kept my mouth shut."

"Has he bitten you yet?" she asks curiously, turning to look at me. She observes my neck and it takes all I have not to tremble in front of her. "I don't see any puncture marks on you, so I'm guessing not."

"Oh, I couldn't," I tell her, wrapping my arms around myself.

"Well, I hope you know he's expecting it sooner or later."

"I know that."

"You want a cup of coffee?"

"Yes, please," I say gratefully. We fall silent for a few minutes, while she pours coffee into two mugs. I find myself liking Ginger. At first, I wasn't so sure about her. But now, she seems real nice. I can see myself talking to her a lot here. Of course, she's no competition when it comes to my best friend Tara, but she's close enough for the time being. She hands me one of the mugs and I wrap my hands tightly around it, enjoying the warmth. "Thanks for being so nice," I say to her, looking her directly in her flat brown eyes so she knows I mean it. "This has been so scary and sudden on me. It's nice to have somebody to talk to."

She pats me on the shoulder and smiles. "You don't need to thank me for nothing," she says. "I'm happy to have somebody to talk to myself. I don't get on so well with the others here. I don't think they like me all that much."

"What others?" I ask, with interest.

"You know, just all them blood donor girls and boys. They're just not much nice company to hang with."

"Really? Why not?"

"They're just all so keen on sticking together," she explains, rolling her eyes. "They consider me a newcomer and I guess they think I'm cramping their style. One woman here, her name is Pam, and she's a real bully. She wouldn't even let me dip in the pool! I swear, it's like them gangs you get in a prison-yard."

"Maybe she's pissed off at being stuck here solely for her blood?" I can't imagine how someone wouldn't be, though. "Having heaps of vampires feed on you, I bet it isn't very nice."

"Well, I don't see why she should be complaining," she mutters offhandedly, taking a loud slurp of her coffee. "Most of 'em enjoy it anyway. They're called Fangbangers for a reason."

"Fangbangers?" I almost choke on my mouthful of coffee. I have never heard a term like that before.

"I hear it's what some of them do in here, when the vampire feeding off them gets a little too frisky. I don't think they mind getting screwed while eaten, either."

"And does the King screw the donors he keeps in here, too?" I ask, although I'm not really sure I want to know the answer to that. It really isn't my business what he does.

"I don't know about the screwing part," Ginger says thoughtfully. "But he's got to get his food somewhere, don't he? Before you came along, anyway... I'm sure he would have bitten a few of them to get his feed in. Can't be too sure about even that, though."

We sit in silence for a moment or two, sipping away at our coffee.

"Isn't this world fucked-up?" I say to her musingly. "Ever since vampires come out, everything has just changed. They've taken over the world and made it seem as if they're boss."

"Well, they _are_ boss really, aren't they? I mean, they're stronger than us. They call the shots, and there isn't much we can do about it, unless we want to get into trouble. Maybe even killed, for standing up for ourselves."

"Still, it's just wrong," I mutter under my breath. "Everything is _so_ wrong."

"I know, but let's not talk about this," Ginger says, patting me quickly on my hand. "It's not all so hopeless. Besides, you shouldn't talk about things like that in here."

I know Ginger's right, and we shouldn't. Especially not in a houseful of vampires.

I still can't help thinking about it, even when a person makes themselves known by knocking loudly against the wall. Ginger hops to her feet, and races to greet them enthusiastically. I just don't know how she does it. She truly seems happy here, and as if she's enjoying herself. Maybe I should try to put more effort into enjoying myself as well, since escaping is obviously not an option for me.

Ginger calls out to me happily, informing me that "The Good Doctor" herself has arrived. My stomach bunches with uneasiness as I force myself to gulp down the last remains of my coffee, and then I stand to greet herself myself, clasping my hands together behind my back tightly to stop their trembling.

When they step into the kitchen together, I don't quite get the doctor I'm expecting. Usually, you expect doctors to look ordinary, with white coats and a stethoscope hanging around their neck. This woman is anything but: She reminds me of a Hobbit; She's short, her limbs are stocky and she hardly reaches my kneecaps. She doesn't have hairy feet, though.

Still, she gives me that same feeling of impending doom as other doctors do. She has thick glasses hanging off the edge of her narrow nose, and she is holding a large syringe in her hand, and a briefcase in the other. When she tells me to sit in the chair that Ginger has pulled out for me sternly, I do and be sure to take her extremely seriously.

She uncaps the syringe and my heart races. "What kind of doctor are you?" I ask her, though it takes me time to recover when she takes my arm, pulls it down so it's sitting on my lap so that she can reach easily, and folds the loose sleeve of the satin robe up past my elbow. "I don't think Ginger explained to me in full detail what you'll be doing to me?"

"I'm mainly a doctor of the hematologist kind," she says in a surprisingly deep voice that doesn't match her height.

My head is instantly thrown into a whirl. _The hemo-what?_ "What does that mean?" I ask her nervously.

She sighs loudly through her nostrils, using her fingers to feel around the crook of my elbow. "Mainly I deal with working out blood types and seeing if there is any abnormalities in the blood," she answers for me, putting it simple for me to understand. "Blood is a very revealing thing. By simply taking in some of your blood, I can find out not only which blood type you are, but also how many red and white cells you have and if you are carrying any spreadable diseases."

"Spreadable diseases? You can't just ask me straight-up?"

"Well, it's more fool-proof this way," she says. "You might be carrying dangerous infections you yourself aren't aware of."

She turns her back on me for a moment, setting her brief case on the table. She pulls out various implements that leave me feeling woozy.

I have to grit my teeth as she gets a rubber strap and slips it above my bicep, fastening it around my arm. It's so tight into my skin that I can almost feel my blood circulation being cut off. "Can't you just ask me how I'm feeling rather than taking my blood?" I ask her impatiently.

"As I said, it's more fool-proof this way," she reminds me sharply. "And besides, Mr. Northman relies on this. Did you know there is an up-rise of Hep D going around from human to human?"

"Hep D?" I repeat uneasily.

"Hepatitis D, yes," she says. "It's relatively harmless to a human, but if a vampire ingests an infected human's blood they will become weakened and might even die if the case is left untreated and is that severe."

Call me clueless, but I have never once heard of Hepatitis D before. No less that it's a danger to vampires if they caught it from the human they were drinking from. What I do know about vampire weaknesses, ever since they came out into the world, is that the sunlight and vampires do not mix. I also know, from recent attacks on the vampire kind, that staking's to the heart and silver doesn't mix with them too well either. Thinking all this through and what the Doctor was telling me, I suppose I could see why she considered all of this necessary.

"Ever since vampires came out, Hep D has been on the up-rise. Some speculate that humans willingly gets themselves infected, because to them, I suppose, their hatred is so high that the slow torture it presents the vampire is like entertainment to them," she continues, holding me tight by the wrist with one hand, while the hand that she is holding the syringe in goes dangerously close to the inside of my elbow. She finds the right spot, just at where a blue vein is peaking through the fair skin, and then without warning, she slips the needle in through the first layer of my skin. I hiss through clenched teeth and try not to wiggle around too much. It isn't that painful, but it's still unpleasant. "Mr Northman expects me to do this with every human that comes into his house. I've done this to all his twenty-three blood donors and all his other mortal workers here around the royal court."

_There are twenty-three blood donors in this house? That's a lot, isn't it?_

"It's better to be safe than sorry." I'm biting down on the tip of my tongue so roughly that I can almost taste blood in my mouth, as I watch the clear plastic tube of the syringe fill up with my blood. "And with someone with as much significance as the King has, he can't be careless when it comes to his health. Since you're going to be his main provider when it comes to his blood it's essential that I run you through all the basic health check-ups and make sure you're clean."

Apparently feeling satisfied with the amount of blood she has drawn from me, she withdraws the needle from my skin and immediately I feel myself relax into the chair. She unwinds the rubber strap from my arm and my fingers move up involuntarily, tracing over the puncture spot from where the needle went in. Just to tame my nerves, I pick at it with my fingernails; I pick at it so hard it begins to bleed.

"You stop that," the woman warns me with all seriousness. "It'll heal in a day or two. You might bruise up a bit, but that's nothing." She's right; Bruising is nothing. It's not like I haven't dealt with my fair share of bruises before.

"What will you do with my blood?" I ask her, just because I feel I have the right to know.

"It's all very simple," she says boredly. "I'll put this under a microscope and examine all your cells. If everything is all good and well, I'll send news to the King and give him the all-clear for him to start his feeding off of you."

My stomach turns at her words. Give the King the all-clear to start feeding from me? I had made it perfectly clear to him that it wasn't something I was comfortable with, and in turn he had assured me he wouldn't pressure me. How is this not pressuring me?

"And what if I'm not wanting him to feed from me?"

Suddenly, the dwarf woman laughs at me heartily, like I've told her a hilarious joke. "You'll have to, dear," she says, once her fit of laughter has subsided. "A couple of years ago they were trying to work for a synthetic blood, to no good result. What other option is there? Oh, I'm Dr. Ludwig, by the way. Now Sookie; What do you know your type to be?"

She knows my name already somehow, so I don't bother with introducing myself. I can't deny it helps, having a name to put to the face, though. "I think I'm O positive, Dr Ludwig," I inform her uncertainly. I can't be sure; My blood type isn't something I really put importance in with knowing. The hospital usually has it in their own records.

"Most common and universal blood type," she says, like she thinks it's a fun fact I need to know. "I'll get straight away with examining your blood. You and your King shall be informed just as it reaches the start to the night." Just as she is getting underway with packing everything up, she turns to glance at me again through the rims of her glasses. "Tell me before I forget: Have you had all your immunizations?"

I have to really think for a minute. As far as I know, I have. "I can't be entirely sure, but I'm pretty sure I have."

"Have you kept up with all your pap tests?"

Gee, I almost want to bury my head in shame. "I haven't needed it as yet," I tell her. "I haven't had sex yet."

She inclines her head in relief. "Well, that's good then. Least we don't have to worry about that, since you're a virgin and all. Makes my job so much easier," she says wryly. "Now, is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, thanks. I think I'm... fine," I whisper.

"Jolly good, then. Happy feeding." Without so much as another word, she darts out of the room carrying her briefcase hurriedly.

I exchange a look with Ginger, who is standing behind the chair. "Well, she was a little intimidating," I say, just to get the conversation going.

Ginger laughs shakily. "Tell me about it. She's a real nice woman, though." She must see the look on my face, because she laughs again. "Don't worry about it, honey; You'll pass the test with flying colors."

"I'm not even sure I want to pass the test to begin with."

"Come on," she insists, helping me out of the chair. "Let me introduce you to the Fangbangers of the royal court."

I'm not too keen on that, especially considering what she just revealed to me over coffee about them, but I just let her take the lead. She drags me through the kitchen into another room I haven't noticed before. She pulls open a door, which opens up into a huge room with a massive pool in the middle of it.

There are over eight women in the pool, playing water polo; while another group of men and women are sitting in lounge chaises, chatting away. All of them look as if they are having a wonderful time. The room feels hot and muggy, thanks to all the activity everybody is doing, and the tall windows around the room are covered in some strange sheeting so that the daylight doesn't fully break in. You would almost think they were on vacation. The obvious tell-tale sign that it isn't play and no work is the bruises and puncture marks adorning their necks, their thighs, everywhere you could begin to imagine, from the vampires that live in the household requiring their nightly feed as they rise.

There's another door on the right of the room with a sign hanging on the doorknob that says 'Do Not Disturb'.

"You can't go in there, under no exceptions," Ginger whispers in my ear, probably noticing where I'm looking. "That's where the King and all the other vampires sleep. I hear there is over forty coffins in that room. Hell, even if you were allowed to head in there, why would you want to, with all them vamps sleeping in there?"

The more time spent in the King's headquarters, the more quickly I learn how extravagant and even ridiculous his house is. I can now understand what he said himself- about how much he loathes the ostentatious lifestyle that comes along with being King to the States. There are plenty of rooms I haven't even seen yet, no doubt as gigantic as the bedroom and the yard is. This room is equally as impressive.

I can't help but notice we have drawn attention to ourselves by the group lounging around. One of the women, who looks about in her late to early thirties or so, is really giving me a hard, scrutinizing look. It isn't exactly the most friendly look in the world, either. I smile at her politely, trying to make friendly, only to have Ginger pinch me on my arm.

"Careful about her," Ginger warns me; her voice trembling with fear. "She's that bitchy lady, Pam, that I was telling you about. She's real nasty."

Suddenly the woman, Pam, and her group of men and women erupt into laughter. But by the way she is laughing, it sounds fake.

Ginger was right; This really is like being stuck in a prison-yard.

"Come on," Ginger says insistently. "Maybe we shouldn't bother and just get the fuck out of here?"

I nod silently, and turn to leave with her. Just as we've reached the door, one of the women calls out to us loudly. I notice Ginger tense with nerves. "Hey, you two," she calls, in a deep, purely American voice. "Why don't the pair of you get the fuck over here or are you too chicken-shit to introduce yourselves?"

More laughter rings out around the poolroom unpleasantly. I notice the people in the pool pause from their game to watch. Since I can read their thoughts, I know half of them are expecting something unpleasant to happen; Something instigated by this head-honcho. But they can't be as rough as vampires, right? We are all human here, aren't we? We're all alike, in more ways than one. What's the worst that can happen?

Ginger obviously wants to do otherwise, her squeeze on my arm tells me so, but I turn around and obey the woman curiously. I can't help it; I want to know what she's all about. The woman stands, tucking a white towel over her midriff, and fixes up her straight blonde hair. She's got massive bites all over her neck, and my heart surges with pity for her, no matter how undeserving Ginger thinks she is of it.

"Come closer so I can see you better," she says. "Let me take a good look at the fresh meat we've got here."

Immediately I know she's referring to me as 'Fresh Meat'. It doesn't feel too good to be called that, but in a way, she's right. I am fresh meat compared to all the others here in the King's palace.

Settling her hands on her hips, she gives me a good looking over. I try not to squirm underneath her cutting gaze; I'm absently reminded of being back in the schoolyard again, being judged a freak over my telepathy.

"What the fuck are you here for?" she demands in a voice that tells me I ought to tell the truth, no crap, or else I'll be super sorry.

"Hi, I'm Sookie," I say politely. "And I was chosen last night by the King."

She stares at me in surprise for a few minutes. Actually, everyone in the room is staring. Then she laughs, and everyone else in the room follows, like a pack of sheep. Their laughter is derisive and harsh. Ginger trembles at the sound, and tugs on my arm forcefully. She's still wanting to get away, but I hold my ground, letting them all have their joke.

"Bullshit," she mutters under her breath. "You were chosen? _You_? By Eric, the _motherfucking_ King?"

"I was," I tell her nervously. "You don't sound real pleased by that. Truth be told, I'm not either."

"How the fuck were _you_ chosen? A little pissant like you? What a laugh-riot!" Her group of friends laugh again, but she doesn't this time around. Her bright blue, eyeliner-rimmed eyes roam up and down my body in sheer contempt. "Tell me your kidding, please."

"Well, I'm not, ma'am. It's the truth."

"Oh, right. How old are you anyway? Twelve?"

"No, I'm twenty actually. But thanks."

Suddenly the tension builds around the pool. I can feel it. Everybody sits up and takes notice. I get the sense that something terrible is about to happen, and I'm not entirely sure what to expect. What's she going to do? Hit me? Yell at me some more, throw insults at me?

"This is unbelievable," she snickers, but everyone else stays deadly quiet. "How can _you_ be chosen? You're a fucking tween! How can they possibly think _you_ can keep up with Eric?"

"You know, you can feel free to take my place anytime you want, since it seems like you're wanting to so badly," I say, turning to leave.

"Hey, I'm not done with you yet! Don't _you dare_ leave, pissant!"

Slipping on a brave face, I turn around to look at her again. She's standing way closer than I anticipated. Ginger is clinging onto my arm so tightly I can feel myself beginning to bruise. "What?" I ask her sharply. "I think you're treating me unfairly and I think I have a right to remove myself away from this situation, don't you? I never asked for any of this!" My voice fails on me, making me sound as frightened as I feel. I don't understand why the woman is treating me this way.

"Oh, fucking woe-is-me!" she grumbles harshly.

"Excuse me?" I gasp, insulted.

"I won't be believing any of this," she says, getting real close to me. "This is utter bullshit, and you're a little pissant!"

She has me all shaken up. Not to mention insulted.

I don't know what I've even begun to do wrong to get so up her craw the way I have, but I'm guessing she feels resentful that she hasn't been chosen by the King herself. Her stance is threatening as she peers down at me, her face inches away from mine unpleasantly. So, doing what I can only think to do to save myself from her, I drive my hands, palm-forward into her chest, and push her back. She staggers away from me, and then her face looks frighteningly determined to shove me back. Unfortunately, it only drives her over the edge and every single person in the room- aside from Ginger, who screams loudly- is goading us on to fight it out like two wild animals.

It only stops when someone's bellowing voice slices through the chanting for Pam to haul my ass in the pool and drown me. Next thing we all know, the 'Do Not Disturb' door is tearing open loudly and the King comes storming out to see what all the noise is about. Everyone in the room pretty much shuts up after that, and the Pam woman puts safe distance between herself and I in flopping back down into her lounge chair.

"What is this?" King Eric bellows, wearing little more than track pants. He throws a sharp look into Pam's direction, but she's too busy scrutinizing the tips of her nails to notice. "Well?" He demands, throwing looks at everyone else. "I advise someone to explain to me what _the fuck_ is going on here _immediately_."

"There was a fight," Ginger wails suddenly from my side. "That's all it was! Nothing happened, but it was getting close to it!"

The King approaches her and Ginger whimpers miserably.

"A fight between whom, Ginger?"

"Between Pam and Sookie," she cries, avoiding looking him directly in the eyes.

I can feel myself shaking like a leaf when King Eric turns his eyes onto me. I know I don't look like the most innocent party in the world. There is a gash in his robe and my feet are still muddy from my escape attempt. Also, Pam wasn't completely the only one to blame here. I can't let her cop all the blame, when I'm the one that pushed her first. "She was getting in my face," I confess quietly. "I started it, by pushing her out-of-the-way. I just wanted her out of my face."

I see the King's head swing around to meet Pam's from where she is sitting in her chair. "Pamela, is this true?"

She refuses to answer; Keeping her eyes fixed on her fingernails.

"Pamela," King Eric snaps, approaching her. "Is this true? _Answer_ me!"

"_Yes_," she sings out impatiently, finally cracking under the weight of it all. "It was my fucking fault too. I started it by calling her a pissant, which she is. There, I admitted it. Are you happy now?"

"Happy? Do I _seem_ happy, Pam?"

"I don't know. Depends on what you think happy looks like."

"Well, I _am not happy_. There are _no pissants_ here in this room. Should I confiscate the pool?"

There's a big murmur of protest around the room about having the pool confiscated. I guess these people take their poolside lounging seriously.

"Then behave, all of you. Treat my human with respect. Play nice."

Before he shuts himself back into the room where he is sleeping in along with all the other vampires, King Eric stops in front of me, takes one of my trembling hands in his, and guides it up to his mouth, kissing it. I still need to ask him about him letting me visit my family. Only something tells me this isn't the right moment for it. Not when he is obviously so aggravated.

"I will be out in a few hours," he says, his tone surprisingly gentle and tender in comparison to how it was seconds ago. It takes me a moment to get over the shock.

Then reluctantly releasing my hand, he storms back inside the room, slams the door shut, and everyone else in the room seems to breathe out a collective sigh of relief.

**I hope this one wasn't a disappointment. I am sorry if Sookie irritates you, as someone said in a review.** **I know it's hard to keep everyone happy, but I'm sorry nevertheless. I just think that is reasonable how someone would react in a situation like this. Who wouldn't, even if the vampire in question was Eric? :P Hope you don't mind Pam as a human. Of course, she still has that jealousy streak when it comes to _her_ Eric, and soon it'll be revealed why. :) Thanks so much for being so kind and encouraging! It has blown me away! One of my brothers is in hospital so I won't be updating for a few days, sorry!**


	8. Feeding Time

**Hello all,**

**I want to thank you all so much for your kind reviews and alerts I have received. You cannot believe how happy it makes me, and although I mightn't have responded to all the reviews I received, they are appreciated all the same. Thank you! **

**Hopefully this also explains Eric's gentle reaction to Pam last chapter. She is important to him despite being human :) I know some hate that I've humanized her but I like to attempt something different.**

**I apologize for taking so long to update. There has been family drama, where one of my brothers was in hospital. So that took up some of my time in making sure he recovered. I do hope you enjoy this one, and I'm sorry if it is really, really bad. I hope you will be gentle on me. Thank you!**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

The school-yard drama seems to end fortunately, with the King's resurface into his sleeping quarters. The women in the pool resume with their game of water polo again, laughing and splashing each other. The group of men and women near Pam start chatting again, only Pam doesn't join them. I feel her eyes watching me critically as I stand around with Ginger, who has silent tears rolling down her face and make-up smearing around her eyes. Ginger seems so fragile, but I can hardly blame her for crying and breaking down so easily. I was near to tears myself, had the King not intervened in time before things with Pam escalated unpleasantly between us.

I can only be thankful that he came out the way he did.

I have never been one for confrontations. I hate being intentionally nasty to someone, but Pam had all my defenses up. I truly believed she was about to wallop me one, or at the very least toss me into the pool and attempt to drown me at everyone else's goading.

If something requires me to be a bitch in order to defend myself, then you can bet I manage to do a good job of it. And, it seems I have; Pam doesn't bother to so much as acknowledge me or give me anymore trouble. I guess both the King and myself have truly put her in her rightful place. I hate that I had to, though.

I suppose I wrongfully assumed that since we were all human in this place, we would be civilized and could get along with each other. It's sad to see that isn't the case.

I look back at Pam, as she sits in her chaise, ignoring everyone around her, leaning her face against her hand. She's not looking at anyone; She refuses to. She simply stares at her fingernails in her left hand, scrutinizing them with ferocity. She's got a lot on her mind- and I know it. Her train of thoughts are easy to hear, and I feel a hazy rage and blue hurt radiating off of her. I want to apologize to her, tell her that the last thing I want in this place is enemies, and yet, I can't bring myself to approach her. I'm too scared, in a sense. Who knows what she'll do if I attempt to talk to her again? Everything might start up again, and it's not something that I want to have to deal with.

I look at the big bites on the side of her neck, and just like that, I realize how she got them. Suddenly I see King Eric's fangs and mouth all over her. The bites are from him, and he gave them to her and no others in the household. I feel ill with pity for her, but I force my eyes away from her, back onto Ginger, who looks a frightened mess.

"You okay, Ginger?" I ask her with concern.

She forces a smile. "I... I think so, honey. Gosh, I'm so pathetic, aren't I? I can't even keep myself together!"

I pat her on the shoulder gently. "Hey, I don't blame you." I sigh loudly. "I just don't understand why she's so hostile towards me. I haven't done anything to her. I've only been here less than a day and already, I'm managing to start fights with people!" Even as I say it to Ginger, I know it isn't entirely the truth. Thanks to my telepathy gift, I know damn good and well the source of Pamela's animosity.

She has history with the King. Two years worth of history before I arrived here in his palace.

Pam was King Eric's go-to-girl for blood. But now that I've come along, he doesn't seem interested in her feeding him any longer. Last night, after he left me alone after we had shared a dance together, he had met up with her. Through Pam's mind, I get a very vivid mental picture. Most of the time, I hear thoughts, but I get the occasional vivid image.

In hers, after the King had met up with her after our dance, she had asked him if he had eaten anything. She offered herself to him, right here, in this very poolroom. In her mental image, I got a very clear picture of her sitting in that lounge chaise while he sat down by her feet, like a lazy lover, with his head tipped back and her stroking his hair away from his forehead and eyes with her fingers affectionately. She had tried to get him interested in feeding, only to no success. Apparently he wasn't interested in her blood any longer, and Pam took his decline to heart.

It's mainly the source of her animosity towards me; The King often went to her and now, suddenly due to my appearance in his royal court, he isn't as interested as he once was. Pam blames me for that. But how is that my problem? After all, I never asked for any of this, did I? So now, she's resentful towards me because of it. I guess I can understand that, really. She has been nothing but loyal to the King. She puts his needs above her own, and for what? For him to just shoot her down quickly? Now she is feeling territorial over _her_ King. I'm her competitor for his affections.

Still, it isn't my fault what he says or what he does. I have to constantly repeat that to myself to make myself feel better.

"Come on, Ginger." Taking her hand and clasping it in mine, I force her to leave the room with me. She does without a single word, sniffling loudly. "I can see what you mean now, about how the donors in this place stick together."

"Oh, it's bad, huh?"

"It's like being in the schoolyard all over again," I tell her, with a little laugh. "But Pam isn't all that bad."

"How can you say that?" Ginger asks incredulously. "She's a total bitch. She just went ape-shit on you for no good reason!"

"Oh, she had her reasons. I think I can understand why she reacted the way she did to the news that I was chosen. I don't blame her. Still, it didn't feel too good, having her being mean to me..." What I have heard through Pam's mind gives me a lot of perspective. Only Ginger can't seem to look at it any differently.

"Thank goodness the King came in the way he did," she breathes shakily in relief. "If it wasn't for him, I would hate to know what would have happened to you!"

"Well, nothing happened. Let's just be thankful and get over it. Let's just move on and forget it ever happened."

"You've really gotten underneath King Eric's skin, haven't you? You've got him wrapped around your finger already!"

I feel my cheeks redden. "What makes you say that?" I ask her cautiously.

"Honey, it's obvious. The way he was so sweet to you, how he immediately dropped his voice for you to check and make sure you were alright. You've got him wrapped around your finger. He's so smitten by you, and it's only been less than a full day for you."

Smitten by me? I have him wrapped around my finger? I find that really hard to believe.

"I think he was just being nice," I tell her, with a dismissive shrug. "It doesn't mean anything."

"No, you must be blind. Didn't you see the way he looked at you after yelling at bitchy Pam? It was like he was melting just at the sight of you."

I laugh weakly, because she is being nothing but completely ridiculous. I'm dying to change the subject, but Ginger won't let me.

"I've heard about what happens, but I wasn't so sure I believed it 'till now. You're Mr. Northman's mate, he loves you- or at least is _already falling in love_ with you. It's kinda sweet in a scary and sudden way."

I make a rude noise of disapproval. "Ginger, please. Let's not talk about this. It's stupid."

"You're just not wanting to believe it," she laughs, nudging me with a slender shoulder into mine.

"Well, would you be so happy to believe it?"

She thinks for a moment, and her smile instantly vanishes. I feel her shudder against me. "Nah, I don't think I'd want to be any vampires object of affection. Especially not a King vampires. Don't blame you, actually."

"So let's just drop it, alright?" I tell her happily.

And, finally, this time she does. _Thank God._

We walk up the winding stairs in a silence that feels awkward. I try to think of something good to say; Something that doesn't involve mentioning either the King or Pamela.

"So," I start, trying to make my voice sound brighter, "Dr. Ludwig said my results will get back in by sundown."

"Honey, you're not actually worried about that, are you?"

I say nothing. I think it's pretty obvious that I am.

"What are you fretting about it for?"

"I don't know," I mumble. "I just am. I've got this bad feeling that's impossible to explain."

We reach the top of the stairs and turn to face each other. She pats me gently on the top of my head, reminding me of a dog being greeted by its owner.

"Darling, everything will be fine."

"I'm not so sure about that," I manage anxiously. There's this horrible feeling churning the insides of my stomach around.

"You're not ill, are you?"

I sigh loudly. "No, far as I know, I'm not ill. I'm pretty sure I'm healthy as a horse. I've just got this... bad feeling."

"You're probably stressing over nothing," she insists confidently.

"Well, I hope so," I tell her, forcing a smile. "I might try to get a few hours of sleep in. I feel as if I haven't slept a wink in this place."

"You do that, honey. I'll come wake you just right before sundown."

"Thanks, Ginger."

Before I can help myself, I lift my arms and wrap them around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. I can tell she is still shaken up from what happened earlier, because her body trembles as I press my cheek against her wet one. It's nice to hug someone when you are in need of comfort. Although I don't know Ginger too well, I know I like her and that I can trust her. She has been nothing but kind in showing me around, making me feel at home. It isn't as frightening as it would have been without her around; Her presence is almost wildly reassuring to me. Pulling back slowly, she smiles and pats me on my head again.

I watch her as she climbs back down the stairs. Once she is out of view, I head into the bedroom, and close the door securely on myself. I turn, eyeing the bed. The large bed almost reminds me of the one Gran has at home in her bedroom; A bed she has had for years, one that I used to hop into whenever I was needing someone to talk to when I was afraid, or had nightmares, as a much younger girl. The only difference about this bed is that it is slightly bigger, and the sheets are more luxurious and a deep, crimson red. Just staring at it presents me that familiar tight ache in my bones, that feeling of longing for the familiarity and humble comforts of home and my Grandmother's sweet company.

I don't know how long I stand there for, staring at the bed. But it seems hours have passed on by. My legs start feeling heavy, and my eyes feel all grainy, due to lack of sleep. The bed calls to me, so sluggishly I climb on top of the covers and collapse with the side of my face into the pillow. I can't even be bothered pulling down the covers and properly sliding in, so I don't. I just lay there long ways on top of the sheets, feeling overwhelmed with grief.

I can't help but wonder if it will ever get better._ Will this feeling of loss ever go away? Can I grow to enjoy living here, under this roof?_

My face feels cold and damp. I put a hand to my cheeks and find that they are wet with my tears. I must be crying again, and I didn't even know it myself. I rub my face into the pillow, wiping it clean of tears.

Then, finally, my mind works with me, in shutting off. I get the sleep I haven't had since I first arrived here in the King's quarters.

* * *

When I wake again, someone is tapping me lightly on my cheek with their fingers. I sit up, finding it's Ginger. It must be sundown already. "Hey," I whisper sleepily. "How long have I been asleep for now?"

"Just a little over four hours, I think. It's near sundown. You better get up."

She doesn't have to tell me twice; I roll over on my back, and force my limbs to move up into a sitting position.

"What happens now that it's near sundown?" I ask her quietly.

"Well, all the vampires start rising out of their coffins and head into the poolroom."

"The poolroom? What for?"

"It's usually where they get fed. When I first saw it, I was shocked. All them donors line up, and the vampires assess them and take their pick. Then the biting and blood-sucking begins."

"Have you seen the King bite a human and drink their blood?"

"Not yet," she says slowly. "But you'll probably be the one he does that to. He's already up, discussing your blood results with Dr. Ludwig."

Ginger telling me that is like a bucket of ice-cold water being thrown into my face. A couple of seconds ago, I was feeling drowsy and not so sure of my surroundings. Now, I feel completely awake and on-edge. I had wanted to be there to hear what Dr. Ludwig has to say on my blood results. Since it's my blood, I thought I had the right. Apparently I'm too late, though.

"Did you hear what she was telling him about it?"

Ginger grimaces and hesitates before answering. "Not really," she admits apologetically. "They were shut-off in another room, so I couldn't eavesdrop on much. But when the pair of them came out of the room, I thought everything looked well. I'd say you were given the all-clear, which is no surprise, really."

"You reckon she did give him the all-clear?" I ask her.

"I reckon so, honey. I told you that it wasn't necessary to fret, didn't I?"

I frown at her words, lost in thought. I'm not so sure what I feel about that. I suppose I am supposed to feel happy, and the slightest bit relieved that my blood is clean and clear of any "spreadable diseases"- as Dr. Ludwig put it. Only I don't really feel as if I am. To give me the all-clear means that King Eric can feel free to feed from me, which isn't something I necessarily want. I guess what caused my concerns about the whole thing was the possibility that the blood test might have shown the King that I wasn't as "normal" as most in this place. I was almost frightened it might show that I have my telepathy gift, even though it's unlikely it could. I just didn't want anyone knowing about it, unless I confessed it to them personally myself. It was my part of free-will.

"Do you think the King will want to feed from me tonight?" I ask her, the thing that worries me most.

Ginger shrugs. "I don't see why you're so scared about that?"

"And have you had a vampire feed on you?" I know she hasn't, because she isn't here for that. She was mostly employed for cooking duties, but I see no other way to get my point more clearly across.

I scrutinize Ginger carefully to find her turning a little red. "Well, no," she admits hesitantly. "I haven't. But most of the other humans here have."

"And they're here to be donors," I point out to her seriously. "I'm not a donor, and I've never had a vampire near me before, let alone feeding from me. So can you blame me for being scared?"

"Surely, if it hurt _that much_, there would be no such thing as Fangbangers."

Okay, so yes, she has a point. But they must love the pain then, like King Eric told me once before last night. Masochism. They get addicted to the thrill, the pain. I can never see myself like that; Like the kind of person who could willingly let a vampire do that to herself. It just isn't the person that I am.

"I could never do it, Ginger," I tell her vehemently. "It's why I'm so scared. I know it'll hurt. It has to hurt, and I've never been too fond of pain, so that's why I could never stand doing it. Not for the King, or for anybody."

"But you don't know that," she says quietly.

"But I do," I insist strongly. "I know it'll hurt, and that's what terrifies me most. I don't think I can do it."

"But you've kind of _got to_ do it."

"Not if I can help it," I mutter under my breath stubbornly. It's just impossible to me. I know I can't, and there is nothing that will change it for me.

Ginger waves her arms around impatiently. "Oh, come on, Sookie," she sighs. "It's time for you to get up out of that bed. The King told me to come collect you. He's summoned you. We've got to be out in the poolroom."

"Summoned me?" I repeat in disbelief. It was news to me. "He can do that?"

"Well, 'course he can," she laughs, frustrated. "He's the King! Now, up you get!"

Since I can't see anyway of escaping it, I force myself up. I know I must still look a mess, because I hear Ginger give out a pitiful sigh.

"Look at you," she whispers.

Startling me, she takes me by the shoulders and steers me into the bathroom. I let her without comment. She brings me to my reflection in the mirror, and I'm horrified by how dirty I look. Of course, the dirt from my escape attempt earlier is still there, in splotches over the satin, on my elbows and on the back of my feet. When I turn and look at the gash in the robe from Alcide the Werewolves paws cutting into it, it looks even worse than I anticipated. This really isn't a look I should wear in front of the King. I should be more... respectful and clean.

"Crap," I whimper out in disgust. "I can't go down there looking like this, Ginger! You've got to help me!"

"I got some clean denim shorts and a halter top in my wardrobe that would look a treat on you?" She suggests uncertainly.

"Please," I beg desperately.

Putting herself to good use, Ginger disappears for a few minutes, then returns with some clean clothes that I can borrow. She's obviously a bigger size than me, because I have trouble making the denim-shorts she gives me stay upright over my hips, and the tie dye halter top she gives me looks baggy around my stomach and cleavage area, but I can't deny it's so much a better look than the torn robe I was wearing before.

"Thank you so much," I breathe at her in relief.

"No worries," she says, waving a hand in the air dismissively. "You look heaps better. Now let's go. We have already left the King waiting far too long."

Sucking in a deep, cleansing breath, I follow her down the stairs two at a time. The house is empty, aside from a guard holding a gun and wearing head-gear, who is standing near the entrance of the pool area. He permits us through with a silent, stoic nod, and I smile at him thankfully.

I'm not sure what to expect, but in our haste to get downstairs and not leave the King waiting too long, I kind of forget for a moment about being nervous. Now that we are here, and we are pushing through the door that opens into the poolroom, I feel the nerves infect me from head-to-toe. I know Ginger is just as anxious as I am; I look over at her briefly, and she looks paler than she was before. I can hear her chanting something repetitively in her head:

_Don't scream. Don't scream. Don't scream._

She throws a quick look at me, and I give her one of my best reassuring smiles.

My eyes take in and register what's going on around the room. All the donors, including Pam, are standing in a long line. Some look ill with nerves, and others are so excited to get straight down to being fed on that they can hardly stand still. A tanned, Brazilian man in nothing but boxer shorts is beaming around the room, small bite marks on his nipples, while a brunette woman near him with purple bites all down her thighs is scrunching up her hair with her hands.

It takes me back to being in that room in Bon Temps all over again, when all of us girls were made to stand in an orderly line so that the King could sniff us out.

I turn my eyes over to the door where the vampires were sleeping in and my heart skips a beat. It's already opened, and a few male vampires are already in the room, inspecting the donors from head-to-toe. Their fangs are out and glistening, and they have wild, hungry looks in their eyes.

In order to distract myself and ease my nerves, I listen into some of the donors.

One woman is hoping a particular vampire will pick her again tonight. She's a fan of rough sex and he seems to know all the ways to please her in that department.

I switch, finding myself hearing Pam's thoughts.

She's thinking that she wishes the King would be wanting her services tonight, unlike last night, where he refused. Two and a half years she has been here in his royal court, and _not once_ he has denied her before, so how could it possibly change now? Unless the pissant (That's me, of course) has clouded his judgment. She turns her eyes onto me, and I look away quickly. Oh, gosh. Now she's wondering what is so special about me to be selected as the King's mate. _Surely Eric has better taste, doesn't he?_ How could I possibly be his mate? _It's fucking unbelievable_, and she still refuses to believe. _Oh, and there he is! How dare he ignore me and go straight to her? What's so special about the little, prudish pissant? How can he-?_

Interrupting her wild and frantic thoughts, a sudden, glorious silence overcomes me, as I feel someone take my hand to their lips, and I turn only to be staring suddenly into the King's bright and intent blue eyes.

He appears a lot paler and his cheekbones are thinner than how it was the last I saw him last night- probably due to lack of feeding and blood consumption. But maybe it is the black clothes that he is wearing that gives off the effect? He is wearing those black track pants with a leather jacket thrown on, unzipped enough at the start of his waist that I can see the pale planes of his sculpted chest and the muscles of his throat showing through. Black isn't so much of a good color for a vampires complexion; It makes them look sickly, but not in a detracting way.

He kisses my hand, lingering for a lot longer than he has all those times before. I feel the strength of his cool fingers and the tiny, white pricks of his fangs against my knuckles. It's the oddest experience in the world and I find myself ridiculously breathless.

"Oh, sharp," I gasp.

He finally pulls my hand away from his lips, only he doesn't let my hand go. "Sharp?"

I can feel my cheeks getting ridiculously warm. "Your fangs," I explain breathlessly. "I felt the tips of them against my knuckles. They're... sharp." What a way to really state the obvious. Of course, they're sharp. They have to get through flesh somehow, don't they?

"Have you been wondering how they feel on you?" he asks, slightly taken aback.

"Maybe, I might have. I've felt curious about them and how it feels to be fed on, sure. But that's only because I've never experienced it or have been near a vampire before." I'm stating the obvious yet again; Back at home, you don't go out of your way to be near a vampire. It's suicide.

"Have you been wondering how they would feel inside you, as I tasted you?" It sounds like something dirty and intimate, the way he says it.

I look down at my bare feet, embarrassed. "Please, don't be talking like that," I say desperately. "This is hard enough as it is."

One of his hands comes up, he takes my chin, and turns my face towards his, so I can't help but look him square in the eyes. For a breathless moment, I fear and hope he is about to kiss me, only he doesn't. I feel both strangely disappointed yet mighty relieved. "I told you you don't need to fear me, Sookie Stackhouse. But Dr. Ludwig has analysed your blood, and has given me the results. You are perfectly fine to feed on. So, shall we get this over with?" His tone of voice screams eagerness.

I suppress a shiver. It isn't the news I was hoping for. "Please, can we sit for a bit?" I beg uneasily.

"Of course." He nods and gestures vaguely to one of the unoccupied lounge chaises. "Are you well? How are you settling in?"

"Just fine, despite what you saw before out here," I manage. He leads me over towards the chair, sits, and pats the space next to him loudly with his hand. Bracing myself, I sit, keeping my eyes on my hands in my lap. It's too close for comfort: Our legs and elbows are touching, and he reaches over and holds my hand again. "I need to ask something of you," I begin tentatively. "It's about my family..."

This is bound to make for long conversation but if I didn't get it off my chest now, I knew I never would.

**I hope this wasn't terrible! I will go hide now!**

**I'd love to know your thoughts. Any suggestions are welcome :) Would you be interested in a bonding ceremony? Promise next chapter there will be more E/S time. Thank you!**


	9. Hungry and Stressed

**I own nothing to do with True Blood. Just a silly fan. :)**

**You are all such the nicest, sweetest bunch of people, thank you so much for your kind words. Words can't explain how flattered I am. I don't feel so intimidated to update now (well, exception from this chapter hehe). I hope you won't hate me for Eric's mood this chapter. Someone is a little stressed. Please be kind, and not hate me. Thank you!**

* * *

_**Chapter Nine** _

I wait with bated breath for the bad news to come.

I wait for him to shoot me down brutally, before I have even started to make my point. I keep my eyes on him, as much as I'm able to, despite the nerves gnawing away at my insides. And he stares back: His eyes locked on mine brazenly. Then he is the first to look away, and break the look. He takes his hand away from mine, leans forward slightly in the lounge chaise, and interlaces his fingers near his knees.

"Go on," he urges softly, after a moment of tense silence on my part. "You have my attention. I _am_ listening."

"It's like I just said, it's about my family. I want to see them," I start again, in a voice that sounds embarrassingly on the verge of breaking. "Although it has only been less than a day since I saw them, I feel as if I'm going crazy. I feel so, so homesick, and what I want from you is for you to allow me to see them." I know I sound like a whiner, but I don't care. It's the truth. I miss my Grandmother like hell, and it hurts, and I see no point of hiding that.

He stares out at the group of vampires and donors around the room fixedly.

"You wish to see your family?" he repeats, in a quiet, low voice. It's impossible to tell what he is feeling on it; No identifiable emotions seep through along with the words.

It just only makes this trickier.

"Yes," I confess urgently. "I would like to see my family. Also, I... I heard from Ginger that you let her young daughter come in here for visits. Is that true?"

"I do let her young daughter visit, yes, it_ is_ true. I also let many of the donors see their loved ones. I would be a lousy King if I didn't, let's face it..."

"So why can't it be the same for me?" I ask desperately. I know I'm probably only getting my hopes up, but I can't help it. He seems to want me to be comfortable here in his court and, if he wants it _that badly_, then this is the fastest way to it. "Why can't I have my family visit, or why can't I go visit them for a few hours in my true home? Or is this an unfair 'mate' thing?"

"Not at all. If you want something, Sookie, then all you have to do is ask."

"And I'm doing that now," I say pointedly. "I'm asking you, right now. I want to see my family, and I'm wanting you to let me."

He brings his hands up to his chin, rubbing around it thoughtfully with his fingertips. His eyes dance as he watches what is going on around the poolroom. I can't work him out at all.

"So?" I prompt impatiently. "Is that a yes or no, to that?"

"No one is allowed to leave the perimeters of this house," he says. "If you wish to see your family, then they must come here, and they must leave an hour before nightfall arrives."

"Why must they leave before nightfall?"

Finally, King Eric turns his eyes onto me again. I hold them, with excruciating difficulty. It's just mighty hard to look him in the eyes without feeling nervous, for some reason. Probably because I know he is the most powerful and oldest vampire in this room, and he makes all the decisions. "Because, as this is my house and everyone in it I am responsible for, I have a duty. I can't have any outside humans in here when everyone wakes from their coffins. It would be extremely risky." With a loud sigh, he adds, "Besides, do you want any of my men to become a threat to your family?"

I'm instantly horrified at the thought. "No, of course not," I answer quickly.

"Then they will leave an hour before dark, and if they wish to come again, they will arrive in the mornings when the sun is shining. You let them in here, then you yourself must make sure they do that. You are responsible; They are _your_ liability."

"Fine, I will," I agree, without hesitation. It seems an easy thing to do; Of course I wouldn't want any vampires a danger to my Grandmother, or my brother. I would never want anyone hurting them- not in a million years. "They leave an hour before dark."

"Good." He nods once, satisfied, eyes back on the Fangbangers. "I will arrange for it. Your family will come around tomorrow morning, and hopefully then it will cure some of the homesickness you are speaking about."

"Thank you," I breathe gratefully.

Just like that, this invisible weight that had held me down, is instantly lifted. I am _finally_ going to get to see my Gran again, and it's the best feeling in the world! And it was so easy, too, not at all as hard as I was expecting; Talking to the King and asking about it. He didn't seem to mind; Maybe he knew, deep down, what was truly bothering me, and was just waiting for me to grow enough courage to ask? He just seemed as if he wanted me to be straightforward and not hesitate to ask him, anyway. I sigh deeply with relief and feel my throat tighten. I feel on the verge of crying, but with all my might, I tell myself not to, and hold the emotions in.

Since our discussion seems finished for the time being, King Eric brings his eyes back onto what's going on around the room. Although I don't want to, since I have no interest in seeing anything and I know it will only serve to disgust me, I peer around the room as well. I can't help but feel as if everything is so tragic, about all these Fangbanger donors; How did they get this way, to the point where they would willingly degrade themselves for a vampire to get blood from them?

It's like being in a foreign world, almost.

Although in some ways I understand, in others, everything is a complete mystery to me. Especially when it comes to the Fangbangers, and their way of thinking. Listening into some of their thoughts, I know most of them are well-educated, smart people, who no doubt surely had a good-upbringing. So what caused them to turn to this life? It's something I'll probably never understand, no matter how deeply I delve into their thoughts.

My heart sinks as I watch the pretty brunette girl from before. Two vampires are circling around her like sharks, judging and assessing the worth and the size of their prey. She seems utterly unconcerned by it; In fact, she almost seems as if she is enjoying the attention. She's getting off on it. How can someone enjoy being objectified like that?

The vampires are easy to separate apart from the blood donors, even when the room is claustrophobically crowded. There's a certain look to the blood donors, something that's just downright heartbreaking; It isn't their trashy clothes or their eagerness to be fed on that does it. It's just the looks in their eyes. Their eyes are hollow and empty, like they have nothing else to live for, and like they have nothing else to amount to, but being a vampires meal for the evening. Their pallid complexion, and the awful bites on their skin. It's just heartbreaking and I can barely stand it.

But then, this is the world and this is how it is.

It's unfair, and ugly, and tragic, but there really isn't anything a human can do but take it in their stride and accept it as best they possibly can.

I look at the expression on King Eric's face without him knowing I'm doing so, and I think it is what I see there that makes this a billion times worse. He is watching what's going on with nothing but interest, leaning forward in the chair a fraction to really take everything in, and I can see his fangs are out, as if he is disturbingly excited by everything that is going on around the room; as if he _can't see_ how much of an injustice this is.

I can't help but wonder if we humans and vampires are so, _so_ different that they have completely different thought processes going on compared to what is inside of our own heads. Is he that self-righteous that he is unable to see how wrong every single thing about this is? Or does he just not care, and see it as something that has to go on in the world?

"How can you just sit there and watch this go on?" I ask, before I'm able to stop myself. "How can you allow this to happen?"

He licks his lips and shoots a quick look at me, his eyebrows raised. "This is necessary," he simply says, with a careless shrug.

"No, it's evil," I tell him, without bothering to hide my disgust.

"Well, then. This is a_ necessary_ evil."

"How is this necessary?" I demand, stung by his carelessness.

"This is about survival, this is necessary," he says, without an ounce of sympathy whatsoever. "You don't fault a carnivorous animal for killing something, when it's necessary to their survival, do you? It's all this is about. Nothing else to it. This isn't about being intentionally cruel, or barbaric. It's just the way it is."

A bitter giggle escapes from the back of my throat. I can't see his reasoning at all. I just can't fathom how he can possibly think that way. "But it isn't animals we are dealing with here, are we?" I point out indignantly. "I heard that animals don't have a conscience. They do what they need for food. But the people here, in this room... these are human beings, not animals. And what is happening, is just wrong. It's... disgusting. Every single thing about it..."

"And what do you suggest we do instead, Sookie?"

I look at the brunette woman again, feeling my heart ache for her. I almost want to scream, raise my voice on how wrong this is, how inhumane. Something tells me it wouldn't make much difference what I said, though. One of the vampires has given up on the brunette woman, let the other win her blood for the night. The vampire who lost her is now perusing around the room for another human to feed from. It's like a pissing contest, but with vampires.

"I heard from Dr. Ludwig that you guys were once trying for synthetic blood. What happened there?"

"It completely backfired. We have no other way, but this."

Every one vampire in the room finally seems to settle on a human. One girl has four vampires all to herself, and she smiles smugly around the room, sickly pleased that she has won in the popularity stakes for the evening. I notice all the vampires are looking our way, poised and ready for the King to begin, with... _something_. I'm not sure what that something is, but maybe they wait for him to feed first?

If that truly is the case, then King Eric is wrong. There is no way I'm letting him drink my blood. Especially not after our talk just then, and how he illustrated just how disposable he finds humans to be and how inferior their worth is.

He leans into me, and my body tenses. "Usually, as I am King, I begin first and then they quickly follow," he explains in my ear quietly. Then he raises his voice a notch, just enough so that all vampires in the room can hear, "However, tonight, things will go a little differently than planned." My entire body starts to gradually relax, when I feel him stop looking at me. He addresses everyone in the room in a clear, calm voice. "You _may_ begin without me. Enjoy."

No one needs to be told twice, obviously.

I guess all that sleeping during the day can work a vampire up a terribly big thirst.

The sick feeling in my stomach and the outrage in me grows stronger, when I am forced to sit and observe what happens next.

Since I can hear thoughts, often without my control, things start to get incredibly loud, when the vampires start with their feeding. Necks, thighs... _everywher_e is bitten, and without embarrassment. I feel like I want to be violently sick when I watch that brunette woman being fed off. Her vampire falls to his knees and puts his mouth on the inner part of her groin, and she has to grab hold of his shoulders to steady herself as her body droops and weakens; Her head tilted back, her eyes closed tightly, an ecstatic moan escaping through her parted lips. Stuff like this seems intimate, something that should be done in private, not for everyone else to see and hear. I watch with distaste as the vampire leans away from her thigh, much to her disappointment. He opens his mouth; His fangs are stained with her deep red blood, and drool and her gunky blood dribbles out of his mouth, landing on the ground at his knees. It's real disturbing, horror-movie stuff.

I close my eyes tight, clutching my hands over my stomach. It isn't enough to drown out the sounds.

_Human thoughts, moans, growls_... It surrounds me.

"This is disgusting," I breathe through my mouth slowly. "I shouldn't be here, having to watch this."

Feeling woozy, I open my eyes again, and they automatically focus on another pair.

An Asian vampire, with tattoos decorating his arms, is not only getting his source of blood through a human's neck, but she is also giving him another slice of pleasure. The human woman is massaging his crotch with her hand. She's real turned-on; I can tell. I can hear it in her drowsy thoughts. The Asian vampire reaches down blindly, finding his zipper, and tears it down, and her hand... it slides inside, feeling him, caressing him.

This definitely isn't something I ought to be watching. This is private, not something a girl like me should bear witness to. And I find I just can't take it any longer.

It's finding King Eric watching me that gets to me the most. He is just sitting there, watching my reaction. Hell, he's probably enjoying it. _I'm Sookie; The prudish girl, on the verge of a panic attack**.**_ How entertaining for him.

"This is sick," I get out unevenly, scrambling off the chair onto my feet. "All of you are sick, heartless creeps!"

I don't care if its rude or dangerous to leave the King's presence without permission, or without even a demonstration of respect. I am beyond caring. Without another word or glance in his direction, I weave my way through all the intertwined bodies around the poolroom and dash through the door.

No one tries to stop me, and it's better that way.

I feel as if I want to vomit, and I clasp a hand over my mouth, as I run straight to the front door of the house. The instance I get outside, the cold night air seems to relieve me some. But the ill feeling won't go away.

Sinking down the steps, I hear myself gag, but try to hold it all in. Fortunately I manage to keep any food in my stomach down, but that's probably because there isn't much in it to begin with.

Though I know it's weak and pointless of me, I break down crying.

I hate seeming weak and like a delicate flower, but I can't seem to get the images of what just went on out of my brain. I just witnessed some things that ought to be done in private, and it was brutal and bloody and revolting and I never want to have to see anything like that ever again. I hear the door pull open and the King has only just appeared out on the steps when I slam my hand into his kneecap with all my strength. Lashing out and chiding him wordlessly in a way that feels only briefly satisfying. Turns out my strength is little to a vampire, because he doesn't make a single sound or howl of pain. It only just makes my hand hurt, and I cradle it to my chest, feeling tears rolling down my cheeks.

This is the second time I have been in tears in front of him, or at least near to tears the first time, and it doesn't feel very nice on my pride to have to show my sensitive and fragile side to somebody like him. The last thing I wanted was for him to catch me in tears, but it's too late now and I can't take them back in.

"Are you alright?" he asks, sounding completely confused, which is just ridiculous.

"Oh, go to hell!" I shout at him. "You are heartless and disgusting! I can't believe you had me sit in there just to watch all that! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Now that I have gotten a few insults off my chest, I don't feel as sick and upset as I did seconds ago.

He sits down next to me on the step, and I shrink away, curling my arms around my knees tightly.

"Don't touch me," I warn him.

"I wasn't going to touch you. I was just going to sit."

"Good, then. Just don't touch!"

He doesn't try to, which relieves me. I don't think I could stand it; Anyone trying to touch me after _all that_. Especially not a vampire, who does _that_ on a nightly basis.

"It upset you," he says gently, like he is trying to understand. "What you saw in there upset you. Is that it? Is that the reason you ran?"

"Do you really not know?" I croak out in disbelief. "I mean, _of course_ it upset me. Disgusted me, mostly. But upset me some, too."

"Then I apologize. It was an error in judgment. I didn't think you would react to it the way you did. I'm sorry."

I wipe my eyes dry with my hands quickly.

"How did you think I would react? Did you think I'd open up to the idea of letting you feed from me, if I saw how it was and what actually happens?"

"I did, actually." He doesn't sound too proud to have to admit it.

"Well, you thought wrong! Is that always what happens?"

"Not always. But sometimes it does."

"Then it's wrong. It's disgusting and awful, and I didn't like seeing it one bit!"

After a while, he sighs loudly. "In your eyes, you might consider it wrong and disgusting, but it's life. It is survival for us."

"It's gross," I mutter under my breath. "Not so much the blood and the feeding part, but... what goes with it. One donor in there was, like, full on touching this vampires wang, and it was... nasty and something that should only be done privately behind closed doors. I've never seen something like that before!"

"Then this is all about you being inexperienced. You fear and are disgusted by the things you don't understand."

"No," I protest loudly. "This has nothing to do with how inexperienced I am!"

"You are frightened of me because of what I am," he says confidently. "You lack the experience of being around vampires, such as myself, and that is the reason for your fear. It is exactly the same as what you just felt then, when witnessing what you did. You don't understand what happens between a vampire and a human when they get carried away with their feeding. You also said you haven't had any significant men in your life, so I assume that also means you lack experience when it comes to sex and foreplay. You always fear the things you don't understand. That is what this is all about; You lack knowledge of what went on in that room, and it appalls you and disturbs you because you don't understand it."

So he has a point. I mightn't know much about vampires, since I've never dealt directly with one before. It's the same with sex; I haven't done anything, not because I didn't feel the desire to, but because of the difficulties my telepathy presented with getting intimate. But surely my inexperience has nothing to do with this. This is about decency, and right and wrong.

"No," I insist bitterly. "It has absolutely nothing to do with any of that. Maybe I just have a better set of principles than you-all do? I have a better sense of what's decent and what isn't. What did you expect me to do? Gush about what I just witnessed, see it as something so marvellous and wonderful? Say, oh, it turned me on and I'm so ready for you to feast on me? Is that what you wanted by all this?"

"I wanted to open your mind," King Eric says gruffly. "I gathered that you lead a very sheltered life, and that it might do you well to see and finally understand-"

"Oh, right," I cut in, hearing the hysterical note to my voice. "You wanted to throw me right into the shark pit, without any warning, thinking that it would suddenly give me some epiphany?"

He groans loudly.

"Fine, I won't bother discussing this with you any further. We're not getting anywhere, and you are unable to think it through rationally right now," he says resignedly.

"I think you're lying. You had a completely different point to showing me all that."

"Oh, really? And what point is that?"

"That I'm selfish," I say bluntly.

He makes a noise that comes from at the very back of his throat; An odd mixture between a derisive laugh and a grunt. "Not once did _I_ say you were selfish. You conjured that one all up on your own."

"Still, it's what you're getting at, aren't you?" I go on carelessly. "Because everyone else should think it a privilege for the Vampire King to feed from them, whereas I'm not like that, and I'm scared of it hurting and you provided me food and I didn't extend the same courtesy to you, so that makes me selfish!"

Maybe it's my own fears and inadequacies projecting: I do feel selfish to some extent, and I hate that I'm so fearful of the thought of it being painful. I also feel somewhat bad that he gave his go-to-girl, Pam, the pass for me, when there is no way I'll be able to live up to her standards and the fact she's hurting inside partly due to me. There is just plenty of things I feel bad for tonight.

"You need to relax, Sookie," the King says, offering his words of wisdom. His voice is very soothing on me. "How about we go for a wander around the yard again?"

I pick up on the keyword and my stomach flops. "_Again_?"

"Yes, again. You went out in the yard today." He doesn't sound neither angry nor concerned that I had.

But _somehow_, he knew about my little jog in the yard this morning. I don't know how he even began to know about it, and I'm not sure who told him, but I'm hoping it wasn't Ginger who said something to him about it. I feel she's trustworthy and a great person to be around in here. If she told him, apparently she's not as trustworthy as I initially thought. I just hope he doesn't know the truth- and that's that I attempted to escape this morning. I fear getting him mad, and I don't want him to tear heads off because of it.

He stands and holds his hand out to me. With the smallest second of hesitation, I decide to just accept it and get to my feet. I suppose I could do with a good walk around his humongous yard. It's night, though, and it's a bit hard to see. But with the grounds being so well looked-after and maintained, I figure I don't really need to see anything when I know firsthand that there isn't any sharp rocks or hard gravel that I could cut my bare feet on.

We are just stepping onto the grass, hand-in-hand, when a light flickers on, illuminating our large surroundings brightly.

"Sensor lights," King Eric says, by way of explanation. I guess I will be able to see easily, after all. "It's nice to be outside away from everyone. The guards refuse to leave me alone unprotected usually. It fucking pisses me off."

This comment unsettles me a bit, but I press my lips tightly together to prevent myself from saying anything. We start walking down the long stretch of grass, and it feels nice between the gaps of my toes.

I try to think of something interesting to say, but my mind keeps shooting up with blanks. So, I just say the first thing on the top of my head: "How did you know I went out in the yard earlier today? I thought vampires and sunlight are bad for each other?"

"You are a very dirty human," he says, and he most certainly isn't talking about my character. "You smell like wet grass, and your elbows and feet are covered in soil stains." I don't know whether he's making a joke or not about the smelling side of it, so I peer up at his face uncertainly. He looks deadly serious in the stark white lights though. "That, and... wolf," he adds with disgust, "Which tells me you have met one of my security dogs."

"You can actually _smell all that_ on me?" I'm not too sure what to think about that. It's... freaky.

"I can," he admits, and I catch him licking his lips quickly with his tongue.

_So much for keeping it a secret from him then._

"I just wanted to have some fresh air," I tell him, although even to my ears I don't sound too convincing. "I wanted to see where it was exactly that your house is located, so I... I tried to look through the gate to see what it looks like from the outside. Little did I know it would cause the sprinkler system to turn on and that a werewolf would run after me, like he believed I was almost... attempting to, uh, escape or something."

"Which wolf was it?"

I deliberate on whether I ought to lie or not. But then if I lie, it seems as if I'm guilty of something, doesn't it? I don't want Alcide the Werewolf to get into trouble, though. He seems like a... nice man, aside from throttling me, which was unpleasant but understandable, I suppose. "I can't remember his name now," I say cautiously. "I... I think his name was Alcide."

Startling me, he laughs. It's a low, smoky, throaty sound.

"At least I know he is doing his job well," he mutters under his breath. I don't think he is meaning for me to hear that, so I just pretend I haven't.

"What did you mean before, about the guards not letting you have time to yourself? Don't they let you go anywhere for some peace and quiet?"

He sighs heavily. "Most of the time, they don't. I'm a thousand-years-old and far stronger than they are, and yet, they insist on treating me like a baby vampire. I don't think they understand that I am highly competent enough to protect myself on my own, if need be."

"They probably don't mean it like that," I say. "Since you're King, I imagine they would be helpless without you. I bet they like being around you and feeling as if they're helping some in keeping you alive, even if you are way more powerful than all of them combined."

He makes an approving grunting noise at me and rakes his eyes down my face and clothes. It's a peculiar look; One I find myself stumped with.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"It's just that since you first arrived here, you have not once failed to continuously surprise me."

I feel stupidly proud of myself over that remark. "Really, I surprise you?"

"You _do_ surprise me, yes." His look is brimming with honesty. "Not many humans continuously surprise me, but you seem to. You may lack experience, but you sure do know how to put things into perspective."

"Well, thank you. How nice of you," I say, dragging my eyes away from his purposefully. Since our little talk on the steps a few minutes ago and my outburst, I feel a lot more calmer, in a sense. I don't feel like yelling anymore. I guess that's a very good thing. I look behind my shoulder, back up at his mansion. It doesn't look as large in the dark somehow. I spot the lean silhouette of one of his guards standing by the doors. He's right; They can't seem to leave him alone for one damn minute.

"Not quite," I mutter under my breath.

"What was that?" King Eric steps a bit closer into my side, as if leaning in to hear me better.

"One of your guards is standing up by the entrance of your house," I explain, my voice just below a whisper. "I guess you're right, after all. You really can't get a moment in alone to yourself, can you?"

He turns to look into the direction where I was looking at himself. I hear him curse under his breath in annoyance. "Just pretend he's not there," he says, tightening his hand over mine. "He'll get the message that he's unwanted eventually."

"Ginger said you talked to Dr. Ludwig about my blood results?" I ask.

"I did, yes. Instance I woke."

"And what did she have to say?" I ask nervously.

He turns to look me in the eyes. "Why? Are you worried about something she has to say?"

"No, not really," I answer abruptly, trying to sound carefree and failing the second I try. My voice quivers and breaks on me. "I've always been nervous when it comes to doctors and blood tests and everything like that. I just want to make sure I'm... well enough."

"Everything was fine. She had an issue with your blood type, however."

"Oh, she did?" How strange. I'm sure I'm O Positive. When I was a little girl and I had to have a blood transfusion, I'm sure O-type worked a blessing on me.

"She had difficulty identifying your blood type, which is most strange. She had no success with it, but your other results came back clean."

I feel my throat tighten with distress. She couldn't name my blood type? How is that possible? And, more importantly, what's that supposed to mean for me? I must have a blood type, don't I? Everyone has one.

"Does that mean something is wrong with me?" I ask him, unable to hide my worry.

"I am sure everything is perfectly fine. At least we know you are clean."

"Well, I would hope so. How scary."

"Dr. Ludwig has been a trusted doctor of mine for years when it comes to dealing with you humans in my court," King Eric says. "She has a reputation for being a very good, very thorough doctor. Usually, she doesn't fail, but your blood proved hard for her to live up to her reputation. You didn't make her very pleased, when she had to tell me she had no luck with your blood. I suggested to her that perhaps she isn't a very thorough doctor after all, and that I might have to consider reducing her pay, so she told me very politely to 'go fuck myself.'" He sounds very amused despite Dr. Ludwig not being respectful in telling him to go do that. "I love it when people treat me as though I am not King. It prevents you from getting an over sized ego."

"If you say so. Should I try to forget you're King of Louisiana, too?"

"Oh, please," he breathes in amusement, and lifting our hands, he kisses the back of mine again. It's probably the_ fourth time_ he has done it, and still, it takes me a while to get my head around it.

"That has been, like, probably the fourth time you've kissed my hand now," I observe quietly, feeling heat rising to my face over it.

"Does it bother you?" he whispers, his eyes staring deeply into my own searchingly.

It takes all my willpower not to glance away from him. "Nope, not at all. Your fingers and lips are just so cold, that's all."

"I quite enjoy my lips on your skin. If I could, I would ravish you to death with them." I might be wrong, but I get the impression he is trying to flirt with me. At least, his tone of voice sounds all flirty and sensual, and as if it's coming from inside a deeper, lower part of him. And, along with them, I can't help but imagine his lips everywhere on me. On every part of my skin, even intimate places. How erotic.

"You're very rude," I tell him, hoping to sound insulted. "A King shouldn't talk like that. It's very inappropriate."

"A King can do whatever the fuck he likes," he says, going along with me.

"Hmm, I suppose that's true. He can afford to do whatever he likes, but... I thought you just said you would like for me to pretend as if you're not the King, and just some normal vampire?"

He makes a tutting noise at me with his tongue. "I have changed my mind. It feels good to be King."

I laugh, stunning even myself by the sound as it erupts from me. It seems as if it has been so long since I've had a good laugh. And, what's more... I'm laughing at the King of Louisiana. I can't say I ever imagined this happening with him.

"That donor, Pam, she doesn't seem too fond of me," I say. "She's heartbroken and she hates me."

"Well, that's just Pam." He shrugs. "She isn't fond of anyone. It is just the way she is."

"She's extra fond of you, though, so you can't exactly say it's the way she is, can you?"

He stares at me in a thoughtful silence for a moment. Then deliberately, I think, he looks away across the yard. "How do you know Pamela is fond of me?" he asks curiously.

"Because I just do," I say, remembering just in the nick of time not to say how I know exactly. "I can tell with certain people. I know the reason she's upset, and it's because I've arrived and she feels as if I'm taking you away from her."

He sighs wearily and brings his eyes back to mine again. Just with the way he looks at me, I know I've hit the right nail on the head.

"For two and a half years, she's been in your royal court. She always gives you blood when you need it, when you're thirsty... or hungry, whichever it is. But then you turned her down last night, didn't you? She didn't feel too good about that, did she? Especially not when it means a big deal to her..."

His eyebrows twitch a little at that. "How did you know about that?" he asks, somewhat cautiously. "Did darling Pamela tell you or something?"

"No, but she didn't need to. I have my own little special way of knowing things."

"Your own little special way of knowing things?" He repeats, intrigued. I get the feeling he is mocking me, forcing me into a brick wall where I have no way to get out easily. "And what way is that, Sookie Stackhouse? Do tell me."

"A secret way," I answer simply. "Do you think you'll ever go to her again?"

Leaning down so that his face is more on a level near mine, he scrutinizes me carefully with his eyes. It takes everything I have within me not to flinch out of wariness or caution over his proximity. "Why would I bother going to her when I have_ you_ now? Answer me that."

"Because she can easily give you what you need," I whisper, trying to keep strong.

"And what is that? What do I need _so badly_ that she can apparently give to me?"

"Her blood," I reply stoutly. "She can let you feed off her. She's strong and brave enough, and most of all, she enjoys doing it for you and seeing you... thriving."

"Well, there is a little flaw to your theory about Pamela."

"What's that?"

"I have no interest in her blood any longer," he says, and there is a flatness in his tone that concerns me. "Nor do I have any interest in anyone else's."

"But... why... why not?"

"I want _your_ blood," he says, his voice changing alarmingly; Firmer, colder.

"But it's like I said, I just can't. Don't you remember what I was telling you? I could never be that type of girl, and it frightens me," I stammer apprehensively. "If anyone can give you blood, it's... Pam. She's done it for you all along. Don't let me change it now. Don't just treat her like disposable trash that you can just toss out because she no longer interests you. It's not fair..."

"Do you not realize how everything has changed?" He demands, his face scary, fangs extended unpleasantly out at me, his expression unsmiling and dark. I think it's mostly the sensor lights in the yard that add to the effect. "How everything is difficult now? Before you came along, I could do whatever I please, I could feed with whomever I wanted to. But what has changed now, is that I crave nothing but _your_ blood. It is _your_ blood, _not_ Pamela's or anyone else's. Everyone else means nothing to me. So, you must understand that there will come a time, whether tomorrow evening after your family has their visit, or the next evening, where I _will_ be getting your blood, because I care about my life too much." There is no anger or cruelty in his tone. It's completely hollow. "It is _your blood_ alone, or else I die, and I have too much value on my own life to ever let myself meet the true death." I want to say something in response, anything, only he doesn't let me. "You are my mate. You must start acting like it, otherwise I won't be around for much longer. I give you goodnight," he says over his shoulder bleakly, and then, within the blink of an eye he has already disappeared, leaving me standing out in the yard, with no way to call him back and no way to properly talk to him.

Oh, gosh. What have I gone and done now?

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this one? I cannot send my thanks enough, you're all so amazing and kind. It makes me feel emotional silly enough!**

**I promise once Sookie sees her Grandmother, she'll become a little more understanding and brave, and try to toughen up when it comes to being thrust in a world she has no prior understanding or knowledge of. Everything is just rubbing her up the wrong way, and Eric is a bit clueless when it comes to understanding her emotions and how to deal with it. If you have any suggestions, feel free to let me know. Should Eric be harder and less soft with her? I love hearing your thoughts! **

** Many thanks to all of you, it blows me away! Hoping you all keep safe, and happy. :-)**


	10. Playing Her Part

_**I want to thank you all so much! I know that hardly seems enough, but I'm so shocked by how lovely each one of you are! Thank you, and I hope this one isn't too bad or as if I'm "jumping the gun". Feel free to let me know your thoughts- I loved them! :-) Thank you so much for all the alerts and reviews I have received, it's a big shock as personally I find this story to be terrible. English isn't my first language either (as you can probably tell) so it's all the more challenging ;)**_

* * *

_**Chapter Ten**_

"_It is_ your _blood alone, or else I die..."_

_"You are my mate. You_ must _start acting like it, otherwise I won't be around for much longer."_

His words replay over and over in my head while I linger around in the yard, trying to make proper sense of them. What does he mean, he won't be around much longer if I don't offer my blood over to him? I mightn't know much. There is a lot more I don't know about than what I do know about all of this. I know vampires need us- a humans blood- to survive. Since he has no interest in getting it from his go-to-girl Pam anymore, it means he isn't getting it at all, and if he isn't getting it, then he's likely to starve or weaken by the hour.

What does it even mean to be a King's mate? That isn't something I even know the answers to. What is expected of me, now that I have been chosen? What am I supposed to do, now that I am here in his palace? I hardly know anything, and no one is bothering to tell me. No one is bothering to help me understand just what it is I'm here for. Am I expected to know already?

And he's right, of course, about everything he said to me: I_ am_ inexperienced, in a lot of things. This world and how to deal with vampires, especially. But how am I supposed to know if no one will bother to really sit me down and tell me just what my job here is, in being King Eric Northman's mate?

I want to call him back, tell him he isn't being entirely fair on me. Only he's gone, before I even got the chance to put my heart out there on my sleeve. So I'm not being entirely fair to him either, and I know it. He has treated me unbelievably well; He is letting me see my family tomorrow, the thing I wanted and needed most. For that alone, it makes me see that he is very kind and considerate.

I know one of my jobs here is to feed him. But how do I overcome that fear of the pain it will present me, with his fangs and all that blood drawn from my skin directly into his mouth? After what I just witnessed in the poolroom, how foreplay and feeding obviously go together, I don't even know where to begin on growing comfortable with it. Both things I am completely inexperienced with, which makes it a hundred times more scarier; the idea of it all. Seeing what happened in that room disgusted and disturbed me equally. There was no secret curiosity within me over that aspect of what goes on between a vampire and a human. It was something so... intimate, something I feel ought to be private, not showcased publicly for all eye's to see.

And why did he bother even showing me that? Does he expect me to do it with everybody around, watching? I could never do it like that. In secrecy with just the King of Louisiana himself might make it easier to deal with, but it would still be frightening to me. But I'm here now, aren't I? This is part of what is expected of me, isn't it?

I have a part to play, and that's as the King's mate. He will give me his immortal kiss someday, and I will be like him. I will thirst for blood, and all that other gruesome stuff that comes along with it. Evidently where I am now, as human, that means I also have to feed him, probably on a nightly basis.

I suppose I have lived a very conservative life. Sheltered even, like he assumed.

Gran brought me and my brother up and as two kids who went to church, and lived a mainly Christian life. I guess Jason found it easier to live the way this generation does, but that's probably just because he's a young male; Where everything is so carefree and things are done, like drinking and casual sex, but that never was me. I was never that girl. Often, I found it hard to fit in, and sometimes I would get so down that I loathed the way we were brought up as kids in this world. I used to feel as if I don't belong, and no wonder? It's the way I was raised, by my Grandmother. She taught me that drinking and drugs were wrong, and that sex and anything intimate is something done with someone you truly liked, and you don't boast about it or flaunt it around other people.

Maybe it's just my own beliefs and upbringing that has made all of this so hard on me to deal with?

I used to wonder if I was brought up in the wrong time, the wrong generation, because of all the beliefs Gran had instilled into me. Maybe I was meant to be in the earlier times, like the fifties, where sex was something unspoken of and only done behind closed doors, and where drinking was just a habit you did every once in a while when out with your closest buddies, or for special occasions? Even my best friend, Tara, once told me I wasn't mature enough for this world. That I'm so easily shocked by everything, and that it's strange, because it isn't like we're living in the fifties anymore, where everything had to be so prim and proper. There were so many times where I felt so frustrated and lonely in the world, because I felt like I didn't belong; I lived my life so differently from everyone else, and it wasn't just my gift that influenced that.

But how do you go against the way you were brought up?

_Adapting_, I know that's how he put it. Humans learn to adapt to their surroundings: We learn to blend in, put on a brave face, and learn to do what's expected of us. It seems so hard.

Maybe if I hadn't been brought up the way I was, I wouldn't have been so easily shocked by everything that was going on in that room? I wouldn't be so repulsed and find everything so indecent?

It's in times like these that I hate the way I was raised, but I know Gran had my best interests at heart. She never anticipated on this happening to me, and I sure didn't either. It's hard to break out of it, but I guess the only way how to learn to feed and please him is to really force myself into it by playing along, doing what is expected of me and considered a requirement.

It is easier said than done, though. I don't even know where to begin.

But I suppose a good place to begin is putting myself out there. Try not to be so judgmental, even though it's hard. Try not to be so easily shaken and shocked about things I have no basic understanding of just yet.

"Things could be a lot worse, and you know it," I whisper to myself. "He's trying his hardest, and he's being unbelievably kind and sympathetic to you. It's time to play my part, whatever it may be. Straighten your shoulders, get back into the house, look for the King, and then just say what needs to be said." I feel my stomach muscles tighten unpleasantly. "I know he said goodnight, but you've just got to go straight to him, and explain everything. Tell him how right he is, about what he said. This has to be your home now, Sookie, so straighten your shoulders back, conceal your tears from now on, and just try to get the job done. Grow up a little, and try not to be too scared of everything." Biting my lip, my eyes dart to the front entrance of the large house. The guard isn't standing there anymore. At least, he hasn't heard me talking to myself, like an idiot. "He needs your blood to survive, so you've got to give it to him. You can't hide from it forever."

Although my private little pep-talk doesn't quite work it's magic in making me feel totally at ease, talking out-loud in the open seems to give me a clearer head and put a more rational perspective onto everything.

As I make my start back inside, I peek into the poolroom, wondering if that is where he returned to. Only, he isn't there; There is no sight of him, just vampires and donors and naked skin and blood. I recoil back from the door, clamping my hands into tight fists, reminding myself to keep my cool. I remind myself that, when I first arrived here, I saw King Eric rip a vampires head off with his own bare hands. Seeing vampires feed from donors is little fish compared to how brutal that was.

I whirl around on the heels of my feet. Then I see one of his guards standing around. If anyone knows of the King's whereabouts, it'll be him for sure.

"I'm looking for the King," I tell him. Even I can hear the sheer anxiety in my voice.

"He's upstairs," he says, gesturing with the butt of his rifle to the winding staircase.

"Thank you," I croak out, and not keen on wasting another minute, I start climbing the stairs hurriedly. Once I reach the last step, I notice that the door to the bedroom I've slept in is closed. I have no idea what that means, but I'm hoping it doesn't mean anything bad. Maybe Eric just wanted a little bit of privacy to cool-off, after our disagreement out in the yard? Hope so.

I reach out for the brass doorknob, then hesitate, unsure. Am I supposed to knock before entering? Is that what I'm meant to do? My eyes dart down and find the guard again. I find him staring up at me shamelessly.

"You do know how to open a door, don't you?" he asks.

"I do," I reply shortly.

Twisting open the polished knob, I step in cautiously. For a moment, I don't find him, but then my eyes settle on near a fireplace I have failed to notice before. The King if squatting down near it, trying to get it going, his back facing me, and he is succeeding. He coaxes it to life just as I'm turning back to close myself into the room with him, and he pokes the logs around in the fireplace, bringing flames and warmth into the bedroom. He doesn't turn to give me his attention or to show me he knows I've entered, so I wonder if I should make a noise to make my presence known.

But then, it seems I don't have to, because he says suddenly: "It took you long enough to join me, sweetheart. Are the grounds truly that exciting to you?"

I have no idea what to say to that, as far as making pleasant conversation goes, so I just remain quiet, staring and waiting for his undivided attention. I clasp my hands out in front of me, twisting them nervously, waiting for his orders, as I watch him work with his broad shoulders.

"Are you just going to stand around all night, or are you actually going to make yourself comfortable by taking a seat?"

I didn't know me standing around was so obvious. _I mean, he hasn't even turned around from the fireplace to look at me just once!_

"I didn't realize I was being so obvious," I breathe out hesitantly.

He doesn't say anything in response to that, nor does he finally give me his full attention. It's obvious what he wants from me, though. So taking in a deep, steadying breath, I approach the side of the bed slowly and sit, facing him.

"Well, I'm sitting now," I say, managing a fake laugh.

"Believe me, I am well-aware," he says flatly.

_Jesus, can even anything I do go past him? He knew about me going out into the yard, and now... he even knows whether I'm sitting or standing around or not._

Sucking in another deep breath, I let it all out and then try my hardest to just get it over with as quickly as I possibly can before courage fails me. "You were right," I begin honestly, "About everything you said out there while we talked in the yard. I want you to know that."

"Oh, really? What am I right about?"

"About what you said," I explain quietly. "About how due to my inexperience it... makes me easily shocked and... afraid of the things I don't understand."

At last, he turns to look at me. His skin looks even paler from the gleams of the fireplace and his blue eyes flash at me. They remind me of the eyes a dangerous predator wears, for some reason. "Usually I am right about most things," he says, and I can hear the arrogance in his voice. "The fact that I am now doesn't surprise me in the slightest."

_Wow. And he's being really smug about it, too... No surprises there, though. He's a King; The most powerful vampire in his court, and he no doubt knows it himself. Isn't self-righteousness and royalty meant to go together, anyway?_

"Um, as I was just saying," I begin again meaningfully, trying to not lose track of anything, "You were right. The way I was raised, by my Grandmother after my parents died had something to do with that. We were just raised up to be very... conservative, I guess. I suppose that's partly the reason I reacted the way I did to what I witnessed down there in that poolroom. But I feel there is a right time and place for everything, and I can't lie that it didn't disturb me." I know he is about to say something, but I put my hand in the air quickly, telling him not to start just yet. "Please, I'm not finished," I add desperately. "Don't think that all how you've treated me has gone unnoticed, and I am honestly grateful for it. You're letting me see my Grandmother tomorrow, and I'm grateful for that, too. You've been... unlike I imagined you would be, for a vampire King of the State. But it doesn't make all of this any less scary on me."

"So now you understand that I am treating you exceptionally well compared to others of the States?"

"Yes," I answer quietly, averting my eyes to my hands as I fidget with them as a distraction. I can still feel his eyes on me, though. "You've been real... patient and sympathetic with me, considering. In all the times I've spent around you, you've also given me enough distractions from being so homesick so... I guess that counts for something, too."

"There _is_ a reason for that," he says, his voice deep, hoarse.

I nod at my hands, letting out a deep sigh. I think I know what that reason might be myself, although, I'm still a bit confused. "Because I'm your mate, right?"

"Yes. Exactly that."

"And what does it... _mean_, to be your mate? What am I _supposed_ to do? It's something I don't understand. I mean, I've _heard_ things, but I don't know whether there's truth to anything or not."

"Just what have you heard exactly?"

I say as distantly and as casually as I can manage, "Well, I know that I'll have to be turned into a vampire soon, and you told me it's a requirement you can't get out of. I know that much."

He rises to his feet fluidly and approaches the bed. He sits down beside me, and the mattress gives off a squeak and lurches with his weight. I try to get over my nerves at his closeness, but my body still tenses out of it's own will. It's hardly something I can control, really. My muscles just seem to want to do it.

"You are also mine," Eric says simply, like it's a statement, a pure fact.

I feel the bewilderment flicker on my face over it. "But what's even that supposed to mean? It's just a word to me, something I can't understand. It's not as easy for me as it probably is for you. If I'm yours, then... _what does_ even that mean? What is expected of me, because of that?"

I have to physically force myself to hold his gaze, and nothing else. It's an incredibly hard battle, because my eyes just want to dart away. It's a heavy exertion on my brain.

"You want my blood," I go on quickly. "You just told me that outside. No one else's blood interests you now. Is that part of what happens?"

Some type of emotion flickers in his eyes at my question; One I can't work out. It seems I've gotten him speechless for a few minutes, because he doesn't answer for a while. When he does, his voice is quiet and soft, full of hesitance. "I'll be blunt and tell you that I believed that, for a thousand-year-old, I knew everything and had experienced everything there was. But with this... I'm at a loss to what exactly this is myself. I don't understand it fully myself, but maybe it isn't something to be easily understood and defined by words." He doesn't sound proud any to have to admit that to me. "However, I do know some things quite clearly."

"Which is what?" I ask desperately. I need to know. I've just got to know, if it'll help me in understanding _anything _about this.

"I don't think you are ready just yet to hear the answer to that," he murmurs under his breath, and I hear the amusement in his tone of voice good and well.

"Keeping things from me isn't helping me understand anything," I point out, feeling exasperated. "I really need to know, I think, for my own sanity. I can't learn how to do this with you, if I don't even know where to begin, can I?"

"I _do_ want your blood, but it isn't just only that I am wanting from you. I desire other things as well."

"And what else is there?" I blather on confusedly. "I'm expected to feed you, but what else is there that I'm required to do, as your... mate?"

"Please, you may be naïve, but surely you're not _that_ much?" There is disbelief and disgust in his voice.

"I guess I am really, _really_ naïve," I say unhappily. "I honestly don't know where else you're going with this?"

King Eric raises his fair eyebrows at me. "Should I demonstrate, Sookie?"

I sit there, waiting for the full meaning of his words to finally sink in. Only they don't seem to. I'm utterly at sea in what he means. I guess he feels as if a demonstration is needed, on whatever that something may be, because without waiting for me to reply, he leans into me. I am unprepared when his lips touch mine, so much so that I can't even start to bring myself to move. My eyes flutter closed without my permission, I hear an unrecognizable noise erupt from me, sounding as if it is coming from miles and miles away, and this strange, unidentifiable warmth spreads throughout my entire body.

It's fast and unexpected, but it happens. And along with his very clear demonstration, it finally sinks into my brain heavily:

It isn't just my blood he is wanting. He doesn't want to just feed from me, but also... he wants sex. Physical pleasure. And, after what I saw tonight in the poolroom earlier, all that foreplay and blood, it hardly surprises me. I know, kind of, that vampires can be highly sexual.

My physical response to his kiss is not what I'm expecting. I don't feel grossed-out, or scared, or anything like that. I assume I would, but I don't. It isn't bad at all. No, it's almost... enjoyable, strangely enough. He runs his cool tongue over my bottom lip, and I feel my entire body shudder from head-to-toe. I feel one of his hands in my hair, fisting a handful of it, twining his fingers through the strands as I notice myself leaning into him on the mattress. He's a very good, accomplished kisser, and he knows how to do it amazingly well. I think that's half the trouble of knowing how to do what's right, what I should be doing. But hell, I don't even know what right is anymore. But once it belatedly finds me, I ease back on the mattress, tearing my mouth far, far away from his. He looks pained as he stares me deeply in the eyes without a single blink and I can see those tips of his fangs glistening through the part of his lips.

Something grows inside me as I stare back at him breathlessly. Courage. Decisiveness.

_Play my part._

**_Sorry to cut it off so abruptly. I am halfway through the next chapter, which will be longer, I promise. This is my first time writing a kiss, how embarrassing. I hope it isn't really bad. I will go run away :P Thank you so much for reading. Feel free to tell me your thoughts!_**

**_Thank you all for being so kind and nice,_**

**_Melanie (Truebie)_**


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